


Liar's Waltz

by MeshMosh



Category: South Park
Genre: Betrayal, Eventual Romance, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, superhero au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeshMosh/pseuds/MeshMosh
Summary: Wanting to make a name for himself other than "That blonde dude next to Mysterion" Tempest, or rather Tweek, finds himself ensnared in the business of a certain evil overlord.Not in the mood to die an early death he accepts the task he is given, but not without sacrificing the trust he held for his former allies.





	1. Misorientation

**Author's Note:**

> After reading so many fics where they're all heroes, I thought it would be fun to write something a little different.  
> Craig is a villain in this while Tweek is Mysterion's sidekick, they will both use each other for selfish gains so if that's not your cup of tea I'd suggest walking out now.  
> To everyone else, I hope you enjoy!

Beneath the starlit night sky a hooded creature is hiding in the shadows, smaller less-inconspicuously clothed companion in tow.

“You should have picked something less noticeable, or at least cover your hair,” a gravelly voice says with apparent annoyance.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” The smaller of the two grabs a sunny blonde strand and inspects it thoroughly. Sure it’s a bit light, but that’s not gonna get them killed, right?

Tonight was his first big mission, Tempest’s first big mission. Officially known as “That blonde dude next to Mysterion,” he wanted to go on at least _one_ big mission to make his name more prominent and be known for something other than being the oh-so-great Mysterion’s sidekick. Not to say that always having Mysterion’s name accompany your own in sentences wasn’t an honor, because it definitely was. Mysterion was the city’s hero and everyone respected him, for good reason. He had saved the city from the evil clutches of Professor Chaos long ago, before he turned to the good side, and he is still doing his best to keep the city safe. His current opponent isn’t at all like Chaos though. No, if Tempest was to describe him he’d say that he’s a dirty snake that needs to learn the value of human life and morals. Maybe not the most hero-like words to use, but he isn’t fond of lying.

Two hands suddenly grab him from above, dragging him inside the small vent with little effort. The vent did not look sturdy, at all, definitely not meant for two full-grown adults to crawl around in.

“This isn’t gonna work! It’s gonna break and we’re gonna fall and die!” He practically yelled in a whisper, feeling the vent shake violently underneath.

“Yeah, not with that attitude it won’t,” came the simple reply, proceeding to drag him further into the vent.

For being his first “big mission” it didn’t seem very big. Apparently some ruffians had been found loitering around one of the empty warehouses, most likely planning something bad. He had hoped for something bigger, more grand, more _noticeable_ , but this would have to do. It’s not like being a hero was a competition for fame, at least for _most_ heroes it wasn’t. The Coon was just barely considered a hero after all, probably more misfamous than anything. Tempest himself didn’t have any dirt to his name, not his hero persona anyway. In the night he was Tempest, master of the storms, but in the day he was just Tweek Tweak who worked double shifts at the local coffee shop. It wasn’t his dream life, but he had long given up on ever achieving that. His dreams of owning a quaint little coffee shop in the countryside were crushed when he accidentally destroyed his whole hometown with a huge bolt of lightning, killing everyone but himself. No one ever knew it was him who did it, instead blaming it on the weather and global warming. After the accident Mysterion took him in, instantly having recognized it all as powers other than weather, and trained him in the way of a hero. Maybe he was a bit harsh sometimes, but Mysterion’s like the brother he never had, the family he got when his disappeared. He knew the reason he never got to go on any big missions was because of Mysterion’s constant worry. After not having been on time to save his own family, he had sworn to never let that happen again. It made Tweek feel warm inside, knowing that somebody cared for him. Considered him family.

They went further into the vent, Tweek anxiously waiting for the moment they would fall down and get killed by the ruffians. The moment never came though, and they made it to the other side without a hitch. Following the other’s jump down, he stumbles a bit but is quickly caught by sturdy arms and a reassuring smile. Mysterion said it would be easy, so he shouldn’t worry so much. Mysterion had never been wrong before, after all.

They take careful steps through the corridors, trying not to alert anyone of their presence. It wasn’t hard considering everyone seemed to be either passed out drunk or awake but too drunk to notice the strangers in their base, one even said hi and waved with a big smile before passing out again. Is this really what that asshole’s underlings are like? How did he even rise to any kind of power? Curious thoughts jumble his mind as they climb some stairs, actually quite a lot of stairs. If this was a game it would be the first trial to reach the boss for sure, a trial of endurance.

“You holding on alright?” A gruff voice from above calls out.

“Yeah, stop worrying about me all the time,” he answers with a huff, he liked being pampered by Mysterion but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hold his own in a fight. Him and Mysterion had been on smaller missions before, like bank robberies and burning buildings, but never anything involving large crime organizations. So maybe Mysterion’s worry was a bit justified.

They finally reach the end of the stairs and are met with a long corridor containing multiple doors. Mysterion treks forward without glancing at any of the doors, eyes on the large room at the end of the corridor. Not quite knowing what their goal actually is, Tweek decides to ask him.

“All their planning equipment is in that room, we’ll either take it or burn it,” he pushes the door open with more force than necessary, probably expecting some kind of resistance.

Just like he said, the room is cluttered with maps of different cities and documents in multiple piles throughout the room. There’s even a 3D model of the city on a table, quite well made if he’s being honest. One quick look around the room and Mysterion brings out a lighter. “Too much stuff, let’s burn it.”

The fire spreads quickly through the room and before they know it the alarm is ringing loudly, signaling anyone within 10 miles of their whereabouts.

“Fuck, we gotta get out of here,”  he quickly grabs Tweek’s hand and runs out of the room. They don’t get too far before their path is blocked by several drunk ruffians, barely able to stand straight. Being shoved to the side, Tweek watches as Mysterion readies himself for battle.

“You go on ahead, I’ll distract them. Don’t stop.”

“G-got it!” Tweek quickly leaps over the hunched drunkards, bolting for the stairs. He didn’t doubt that Mysterion would be right behind him in a couple of minutes. He was the city’s greatest hero, after all. But despite that he still found a tiny bit of worry nip at his brain. When the stairs are at his feet, he stops for a second and turns around. Mysterion was busy fighting and didn’t seem to have a single scratch, as expected.

Before Tweek can turn back around a hand suddenly grabs him from behind, dragging him into one of the vacant rooms. Well it obviously wasn’t vacant, seeing as Tweek was now pushed back against the wall, hand over his mouth, by the current occupant.

“Keep quiet,” a deep and nasally voice hisses. Tweek instantly recognizes the voice and feels a chill run down his spine.

Neither of them say a word, eyes locked at the door and ears intently listening to the commotion outside. The noise slowly subsides and a quick tap of feet go down the stairs, probably indicating Mysterion’s victory. That was great and all, except Tweek was _still stuck in there_. He’s still pushed back against the wall by strong arms, and they’re both still quiet.

While the other is busy staring at the door, Tweek decides to take a look at his captor. He’s wearing a Red Racer shirt with pants to match, not exactly what you’d imagine an evil overlord wearing. How he even managed to _find_ the clothes in his massive size being a question for another day. Glancing up, Tweek’s eyes are met with messy, black hair and tired eyes, probably from having just woken up. He doesn’t look very evil right now, that’s for sure.

The quick feet rushing up the stairs in multitudes and loud banging of fists brings his attention back to the door. “Hey Boss! There was this kid and a fire, are you dead?”

“No you fucking dolts,” Tweek watches as he answers in utter annoyance. “Did you put out the fire?”

“Yes, Boss!” Comes the curt reply, salute almost audible.

Assuming that the situation is over now Tweek lets out the breath he’s been holding, but the door knobs rattling suggests otherwise. All he hears is a quiet “those fuckers,” before a pair of lips are suddenly mashed against his own. He wouldn’t describe it as a kiss, since they’re just kind of standing there, but other’s surprisingly smooth lips feel pleasant against his own.

The door is knocked down at full force and the horde of criminals fall through, but quickly collect themselves and run back out when spotting their leader in a quite compromising position. The door is put back in place, but the quiet whispers are enough to reveal that they still haven’t left. “The fuck are you guys still here for?”

“We wanted to see if you were like, dying, and we could usurp the throne?” One of the men answers with uncertainty, probably fearing death for barging into their leader’s room.

Tweek lets out a gasp as he falls to the floor, the force sticking him to the wall suddenly gone. He hears the lock on the door click and is then met with an irritated scowl. This is why you should always listen to Mysterion, he is always right, and now Tweek is going to die because of that one fatal mistake.

“State your business.”

“H-huh, what?”

“State,” he takes confident steps towards Tweek’s cowering form on the floor, “your business.”

Gulping, Tweek’s eyes dart around the room, looking for some kind of answer that wasn’t “oh yeah we were just going to burn your stuff.”

The sound of a tongue clicking instantly brings his attention back to the man in front of him, who happens to turn more terrifying by the second despite the obvious bedhead. Even if he was to yell for help now, there’s no way Mysterion would ever make it there in time.

“I- uh- I’m- I’m a fan!” He manages to sputter out, gaining a blank stare from the other.

“The Great Mysterion’s sidekick is my fan? Me, the infamous Feldspar.” He seems not at all impressed by the lie and takes a few more steps forward. “That’s bullshit.”

“What did you expect? That I would just confess when I know that you can kill me any second!?” Tweek almost expects Feldspar to lash out right there, but is instead met with a laugh. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Not knowing whether he should be scared or not by the unexpected laugh, Tweek pick his next words carefully. “Mysterion started the fire, not me, if that’s what you think.”

Pleased by the confession, Feldspar gives his head a pat. “That quick to sell out your comrade?”

“Well I’m the one he left here,” Tweek scoffs. Shouldn’t Mysterion have noticed his absence by now? For constantly talking about never letting anything happen to Tweek, he doesn’t seem very keen on keeping that promise right now.

“I suppose that’s true,” Feldspar answers as he grabs something from the drawer beside his bed. “Wine?”

Tweek glances at the crystal glasses in his hands, “ah, no thanks.”

“Good thing it’s apple juice then,” he says and hands Tweek a glass.

Tweek carefully accepts and take a small sip. It’s just apple juice, what’s his deal? From all the gossip concerning the criminal, he had gathered that he was the type to shoot first and ask questions later. Yet here he is, drinking apple juice with the city’s most wanted mobster. Neither of them speak, but he finds the silence oddly comforting. Which is weird because Tweek would consider himself to be the embodiment of paranoia, and right now he’s alone in a room with someone that could kill him with the flick of a finger. His thoughts don’t linger at the topic for long though, instead imagining how cozy that bed looks. Eyelids growing heavy, he reaches forward to nothing in particular. If only he could reach…

* * *

 

Tweek wakes up to the sound of a loud thud, followed by a wave of curses. Apparently someone had been carrying a large box inside the room, only to drop it on their feet. That someone being Feldspar the thief. Recalling the events of last night, Tweek furrows his brows. They were drinking some juice, then he fell asleep- quickly grabbing a pillow, he chucks it at the man currently whimpering on the floor.

“Ow- dude, what gives?” Came the annoyed reply.

“You drugged me! God, I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“Well obviously- wait, you trust me?” He sends Tweek a confused stare. “Why?”

Frantically brainstorming for a way to fix his slip-up, he starts pulling his hair. “I didn’t say that!”

“You literally just said that.”

Tweek growls in annoyance, glaring at the man on the floor. He definitely looks more intimidating than earlier, donning a dark cape and blue hat instead of the Red Racer pajamas. There’s also a black mask covering his eyes, a mask that wasn’t there before.

“I saw you,” smirk plastered on his face, realization finally hitting him. “Without your mask!”

His feelings of superiority are short-lived though, as Feldspar takes something out of his pocket. “You know, you’re pretty cute,” he waves a black piece of fabric in front of his face. “Tweek Tweak.”


	2. Invitation

Tweek quite enjoyed the cold, Tempest reveled in it. While he had the power of lightning and rain as well, ice was his definite favorite. Rain had a soothing aura that could heal most wounds, but it’s like they say; Offense is the best defense. His gift to control lightning was praised amongst other heroes, jealousy towards its usefulness. Tweek never used that power though- _Tempest_ never used it. Not after the disaster. But ice was different. Ice doesn’t guarantee death, it merely chills your foes. Tweek has never been an advocate for using death as an answer, which is why he never uses his powers to kill. He likes to think that as Tempest, he has proven that you don’t need to use death as a solution.

He slumps back against the cold wall with a sigh, if this was how his captors were planning on torturing him they’d need to get more creative. Being stuck in a freezer would kill most people, but they seemed to have forgotten that the one they trapped in a freezer was Tempest. Tempest, the hero that controls ice. He didn’t doubt Feldspar’s intelligence, but his underlings weren’t exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer.

The door is forcefully ripped open from the outside, a what appears to be confused Feldspar on the other side. “ _That’s_ where you’ve been?”

Tweek responds with a nod and takes the hand offered by Feldspar as support. He had been in there for a few hours, was Feldspar looking for him? The thought makes his heart jump and causes a slight blush to colour his cheeks, but more than anything it fuels his anger towards a certain purple clad hero. Why hadn’t he been rescued yet? Mysterion _had_ to have realized he was gone by now, it’s been _at least_ three days. Considering how easy it had been for them to enter undetected the first time, he didn’t doubt Mysterion’s ability to do it once more. The ruffians didn’t seem reliable enough to microwave a pizza.

Feldspar leads him to the cafeteria, or what he assumes to be a cafeteria. The room is quite big, multiple tables spread across the floor. There are chairs littered everywhere, probably from having been thrown around by the drunkards known as Feldspar’s underlings. Wide windows cover the walls, enveloping the room in a warm light not very fitting for an evil lair.

“Want a drink?” Feldspar pulls out a chair and ushers Tweek to sit down, he’s quite the gentleman.

“Coffee,” Tweek answers while picking up the sprawled out newspaper left on the table. Mysterion is bound to have sent out a search party or something, right?

“I barely know how to boil water, so don’t expect much,” Feldspar answers with a laugh and leaves the room through a door Tweek presumes leads to the kitchen. The door is wooden and looks out of place between the steel-grey walls, but so do the curtains. Tweek wouldn’t be surprised if they got them from some grandma’s house, which is probably where they picked the matching tablecloths as well. Looking around, Tweek finds the whole room to be pretty out of place. From the grandma-style decor to the silly group portraits adorning the walls, it all looks surprisingly homey for an abandoned warehouse.

“Mr. Whiskers was last seen at Stark’s Pond around 4pm two days ago, if you see him call this number,” Tweek flips absentmindedly through the newspaper. “I’m less important than a _cat_?”

“Don’t belittle cats just cause you’re grumpy,” Feldspar hands him the awaited cup of coffee and sits down on the empty chair, sipping a glass of apple juice.

“But it’s been _three days_! Why has no one come to get me yet?” He slumps down in the chair with a groan.

“Four, actually,” Feldspar takes a swig of his juice. “Maybe they don’t care.”

Tweek frowns at that. Don’t care? That can’t be right. Mysterion is like a brother to him, there’s no way he would just abandon Tweek like that. Feldspar is just being an ass. “You don’t know that.”

“I suppose I don’t,” Feldspar leans back in the chair and drums his fingers against the table. “But here it’s every man for himself.”

Tweek takes a sip of his coffee, which he notices tastes disgusting. “He’s a hero.”

“It’s business, ice boy. My so called _allies_ wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about whether I kicked the bucket or not,” Feldspar’s cold eyes send a shiver down his spine. “They just want the throne.”

Scoffing, Tweek turns his attention back to the newspaper in his hands. “Mysterion isn’t like that.” Mysterion wouldn’t abandon him to keep the glory all to himself, right?

“I like you, Tweek,” Feldspar drinks the last of his juice and rises to a stand. “You have a good head on your shoulders and are good enough company, unlike these other goons I’m sadly affiliated with.”

Tweek watches with curiosity as Feldspar walks to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You have something that I want,” he trembles slightly under the touch. “And I’m sure you could find use in me,” Feldspar waves a key in front of his face.

Tweek won’t betray his friends, betray _Mysterion_ , but he won’t lie and say that freedom doesn’t sound tempting. After all, he hates lying. He pushes the key away and shakes his head, Feldspar sighs.

“Since you’re so adamant about keeping your faith in Mr.Melodramatic, I have a preposition for you,” he moves to sit on the table, legs crossed. “Get out of here and do whatever it is that you heroes do other than bother me.”

“What’s the catch?” Tweek questions with a huff. There’s no way Feldspar, _the evil overlord_ , would just let him leave. Tweek may be an optimist but he’s not stupid.

“ _The_ _catch_ , as you so politely put it, is that you keep your pretty little mouth shut about anything you have possibly seen here and,” despite the smile currently displayed on his face, Tweek notices the malicious gleam in Feldspar’s eyes. “Once you realize I’m right, the doors will be wide open.”

* * *

 

Tweek fastens the mask on his face, making sure no one can define the features beneath. It’s bad enough that the most evil guy in South Park knows his secret identity, he doesn’t need the rest of the town to catch on. Tweek continues his brisk walk towards their base in silence, taking the moment of solitude to consider the situation he’s currently in. The most dangerous guy in town, _his enemy_ , knows his secret identity. That’s cool, totally fine, nothing to worry about at all. He can handle this, he’ll just tell Mysterion- but wait, he can’t. That was the deal, wasn’t it? Not to mention anything? Maybe he’s a little more fucked than he earlier thought. Tweek pushes open the door to the base and is greeted with the sight of Toolshed aimlessly pacing in a circle around the room.

“What’s going on?” He asks the pacing hero.

“Oh- Tweek, you’re back! Where have you _been_!? I almost thought you disappearing was just a dream,” Toolshed asks Tweek with a quick hug.

“A dream?” Tweek questions. The base was empty except for him and Toolshed, maybe the others were out looking for him? He knew Feldspar was wrong, they do care, _Mysterion_ cares.

“Yeah! Like, everyone acted like nothing was wrong, but you weren’t here so something was _obviously_ wrong,” Toolshed lets out a heavy sigh. “And Mysterion’s been off doing god-knows-what, I haven’t seen him in days.”

Tweek frowns. Mysterion hasn’t been trying to save him, yet alone gone to the base to tell the others he was missing? He probably had a reason though, right? There’s no way he would just leave Tweek for dead in their enemy’s hideout.

“When you see Kenny, tell him I want the money he owes me back. I need a drink,” Toolshed gives Tweek’s shoulder a reassuring pat and he leaves the room. Kenny, Mysterion’s real name. Tweek knew this of course, he’s known Kenny for years and they live together. It would be weird if he _didn’t_ know Mysterion’s real identity. But it’s still somewhat of a foreign concept, seeing them as the same people. Kenny is carefree and flirtatious, Mysterion is serious and broody. Seeing as there’s no one else left in the base, Tweek decides to leave as well. After having spent days in the warehouse, Tweek missed the comfort of sleeping in his own bed.

His and kenny’s shared apartment is just a few streets ahead, it’s a cheap place with only one bedroom. As heroes they got payed immense gratitude, but far from enough money to live in a decent apartment. He unlocks the door and squints inside the dark apartment. He wouldn’t expect the lights to be on if Kenny wasn’t there like Toolshed said, but Kenny _was there_. Tweek tip toes to the couch and shakes the sleeping form lightly. “Kenny, Kenny get up!”

“Huh?” The boy in question answers and scrambles to a stand. If the beer bottles around the room wasn’t a dead giveaway, the smothering stench of alcohol would be enough to understand what Kenny’s been up to.

“You’ve been drinking,” Tweek states with a scowl. “I wasn’t here.”

Kenny sits down with a laugh, clenching his stomach. “D’you wanna join?”

Tweek simply shakes his head and goes to get his drunk friend a glass of water. Kenny was too busy _getting drunk_ to save Tweek? It doesn’t seem out of character for Kenny, but Mysterion’s different. He’s _reliable_ . _Someone you can count on_. The opposite of Kenny McCormick. They might be the same person, but Tweek doesn’t see it that way. Mysterion is kind and hard-working while Kenny is a lazy drunkard that spends his time making sure his body’s water-alcohol ratio is in favor of alcohol at all times. Kenny used to be someone you could talk to, but that changed a long time ago. Now he’s just an empty shell of the person he used to be.

He hands Kenny the glass and sits down in the couch’s empty seat. “You didn’t notice.”

“What?” Kenny asks with hazy eyes as he gleefully sips on the glass of water.

Tweek sighs and leans back against the couch. “Nothing.” Kenny didn’t just not save him, Kenny didn’t even _notice_ he was missing to begin with. But that’s just Kenny, Tweek has no expectations of him. Even if Kenny didn’t notice in his constant state of being drunk, Mysterion had to have noticed.

Kenny is fast asleep after finishing half of the glass, letting the rest fall to the floor as he passes out. Tweek grabs a towel to clean up the mess and sends a glance towards the sleeping boy. They used to be so close, but when Kenny suddenly started drinking that changed. He still sobered up enough to play the part of Mysterion, but as Kenny his mind is always drowning in whatever booze he can afford. Nowadays Mysterion is more Kenny than Kenny is. Maybe it isn’t a case of Kenny playing the part of Mysterion anymore, but Mysterion playing the part of Kenny.

Tweek finishes cleaning the floor and throws the towel in the laundry basket, grabbing a blanket to cover Kenny’s sleeping form with as he walks towards their bedroom. Kenny’s bed is neatly made with barely any wrinkles to the covers from not having been touched in months. He can’t remember the last time Kenny slept in here, he always passes out on the couch after drinking instead of his bed, if he comes back to the apartment at all. Tweek often spends the nights in their apartment alone, only seeing Mysterion in their base and Kenny rarely being home.

He lays down on his bed and closes his eyes. This day could have gone better, but at least he was home, right? He crawls under the covers as the cold room sends a shiver down his spine. He doesn’t mind the cold, he usually loves it. But being alone in the dark, empty room has him missing the warm comfort that other human beings offer. After having spent every wake and sleeping moment with Feldspar for four days he finds himself unwillingly missing the other’s warmth. Grabbing the key Feldspar left him from his pocket, Tweek’s mind is drawn to the deal. Maybe Feldspar was right about the others not caring, at least Kenny didn’t seem to mind his absence. But Mysterion still cared about him and that’s all he needs.

Clutching the key tightly he brings it to his lips, the smooth surface reminding him of a certain thief. What if Feldspar was right? What if Mysterion didn’t care and this was all a farce? Maybe no one went to save him because they were all too busy rejoicing due to his disappearance. Maybe they were all laughing at him behind his back. His mind is brought back to Feldspar’s statement. He refused to believe it before, but now finds himself taking it to heart.

“ _Here it’s every man for himself_.”


	3. Acceptation

Quick feet tapping against the gravely road, he almost stumbles in the darkness. Bringing a flashlight would definitely ease their trek through the dark woods, but Mysterion advised them not to since it would alert the enemy of their whereabouts. Of course, since Mysterion was always right, Tweek trusted his words while doing his best not to trip. It has been about a week since Tweek’s encounter with Feldspar, and he has tried his best to forget the male. But the words he said have been burned into Tweek’s mind.

_“They don’t care."_

Tweek doesn’t want to doubt his allies, he knows they care. But what if they don’t? Despite telling himself they all care, Tweek finds himself noticing everyone’s flaws. The Coon was always an asshole and it’s common knowledge that he does not care about anything other than money and fame, so his input is of no concern to Tweek. He used to consider Human Kite his best friend in the base, other than Mysterion of course. Human Kite and Tempest have been on many smaller missions together, but ever since he came back they haven’t spoken a word to each other. Toolshed has always been easy to get along with, but these past days he’s been unnaturally tense. Noticing all of these changes has Tweek wondering if maybe Feldspar was right.

Seeing a faint, flickering light, Tweek hastily climbs up the closest tree. Being found out now would mean the end for his superhero career and probably life. He is currently on his second big mission, this time without Mysterion. They’re supposed to ambush the enemy from two sides, Mysterion from the city and Tweek from the woods. Apparently an anonymous source caught air on a few ruffians gathering between the city and the woods, planning to blow up the bank.

The light slowly moves past the tree he is perched in, the sight making Tweek flinch. That’s one of Feldspar’s underlings. It’s not the one who shoved him inside a freezer, but he remembers him being one of those that broke Feldspar’s door. Tweek quickly jumps down from the tree and continues forward with quiet steps, trying not to alert the ruffian of his presence.

He finds the camp soon enough, but sees no trace of Mysterion. Figuring that he probably just got caught up fighting one of the ruffians on the way, Tweek hides behind a tent in waiting. It’s awfully quiet for a camp supposedly filled with people, he peeks out from behind the tent. There’s no one but him there. Did they get tricked? But if that’s the case, where is Mysterion? He didn’t get left behind again… did he?

“Fancy seeing you here, ice boy,” a voice calls from above his hunched form.

Tweek frowns, not in the mood for more of Feldspar’s mind-games. “I’m on a mission, go away.”

Feldspar shrugs and offers a hand for Tweek to steady himself. Tweek doesn’t take it. “You mean the anonymous tip I sent you? Oh, well I guess it isn’t anonymous now.”

“What do you want?” Tweek forces out through gritted teeth. Feldspar is the whole reason Tweek doubts his allies. Doubts? No he doesn’t doubt them yet, just slightly mistrusts.

“Hey it’s only been a week since I last saw you, no need to be so cold,” Feldspar snickers and slings an arm over Tweek’s shoulders. “But I suppose that _is_ your specialty, ice boy.”

Tweek doesn’t shrug the arm off, instead melting into the touch. While he would never admit this to the thief, he has missed the warmth the other offered.

Feldspar takes Tweek’s silence as a cue to keep talking. “Saw Mysterion inside a bar with discount beer just now, what about your mission?”

Tweek suddenly tenses, Mysterion was in a _bar_ ? During their _mission_? That can’t be right, Mysterion is hardworking and responsible, someone you can count on. Not someone that spends their time getting drunk on discounted beer. The one who does that is Kenny.

Noticing Tweek’s sudden discomfort, Feldspar pats his head reassuringly. Their moment is abruptly ruined by a knife being thrown, the blade gracing Tweek’s cheek. He winces and locks his eyes with the attacker, hand moving to his cheek to stop the blood. It’s the ruffian Tweek saw in the woods.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, airhead?” Feldspar growls at the man, moving forward with heavy strides.

“That’s Tempest, he’s a hero! I refuse to stay under the same roof as a hero!” The ruffian replies, balling his fists in anger. They both look ready to fight, but they both also seem to already know what the eventual outcome will be. Still, the ruffian stands tall as Feldspar approaches.

“Good thing you won’t have to then,” Feldspar says as he sends the man flying with a punch to his jaw. He lands a few feet away and tries to stand, but is stopped by Feldspar’s foot connecting with his head. Tweek listens intently as the ruffian whimpers excuses in fear, words trembling more with the increasing pressure of Feldspar’s boot. By the time his sentences are incoherent and slurred, Tweek spots the manic grin plastered on the thief’s face. He quickly covers his eyes as a gross and loud crunch can be heard, the repeated sound clear as day with the ruffian not speaking anymore. The crushing of bones echoes through the dark night as Feldspar repeatedly kicks and stomps on the man’s head, the splatter of blood covering his boots and the ground below. After five agonizing minutes Feldspar removes his foot, but this time the man makes no move to stand.

Tweek meets Feldspar’s eyes in horror and falls to his knees. He’s next, isn’t he? Feldspar approaches his cowering form calmly, the manic grin replaced with his normal indifferent look. “Calm down, I’d never hurt _you_.” Feldspar says reassuringly and pats Tweek’s head. “That guy was merely a stepping-stone in my plan to make the world a better place.”

Tweek eyes him curiously at that. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you yearn for a world without crime? A world where all countries are at peace? A world where equality is a fact, not a dream?” He stands up straight with both arms stretched out on his sides, then gestures to himself. “ _That_ is the world in which _I_ rule.”

Looking up at Feldspar’s towering form like this, the starry lit night sky giving him a mesmerizing glow, Tweek finds himself strangely enamoured.

“The offer still stands. Choose your side wisely, ice boy.” Feldspar utters as he walks towards the woods, the trees’ shadows enveloping him.

Tweek is left staring at the spot where Feldspar once stood, cheeks covered with a light blush. Feldspar, _the evil overlord_ , just killed one of his own allies for Tweek’s sake, right? He won’t lie and say he doesn’t find himself oddly flattered by the gruesome action, because he despises lying. Tweek rises to a stand, dusting himself off, and starts walking back towards the city.

Finding Mysterion proved to be not as difficult as Tweek would have liked. Tweek wanted to search for hours for a hopefully sober Mysterion, or at least a well-hidden drunk Mysterion, but he got neither. Mysterion was sleeping outside one of the bars, reeking of beer without any effort to hide it. Tweek lifts him up and steadies him as they make their way back to the apartment. Glancing over at Mysterion, Tweek frowns in disgust. He got drunk _while_ on a mission? What if Feldspar hadn’t stepped in, would he have died? The questions circulate his mind as he drags Mysterion towards their apartment.

He unlocks the door when they arrive and puts Mysterion down on the couch. It’s very unlike Mysterion to act so careless, it’s more along the lines of someone else he knows. Not wanting their bedroom to reek of beer, Tweek finds a blanket and throws it over Mysterion. He always sleeps out there anyway, so it won’t matter. Tweek looks at the other boy’s sleeping face with a scowl, not feeling the same sense of admiration bubble up in his stomach as he did before. He doesn’t hate Mysterion, he doesn’t hate Kenny, but all he needs is stability in his life. Stability that neither Mysterion nor Kenny have proved to be able of giving. He removes the mask covering Mysterion’s face and sighs, there is no point in treating them as separate individuals when they’re the same.

* * *

 

Quick feet tapping against the stone floor, Tweek removes some of the leaves stuck in his hair. The once warm air, now chilly from the frozen bodies littering the halls, feels nice against his skin as he moves forward with confident steps. He soon approaches the door leading to his destination and slams it open. On the other side he is greeted with the sight of Feldspar looking through one of the many windows, sipping on what Tweek can only assume to be apple juice.

Neither says a word, but words are not needed. Tweek makes his way to the window and grabs Feldspar by the collar, wasting no time in pressing their lips together. Just like last time, it doesn’t follow the path towards intimacy, but the closeness comforts Tweek nonetheless. When they part, Tweek catches the gleam in Feldspar’s eyes as he licks his lips. Tweek never thought going on his first big mission would lead to his ultimate betrayal. That meeting Feldspar would lead him to doubt his allies, to doubt Mysterion. But being here now, having Feldspar’s heartbeat so close, he wouldn’t say that he regrets it. If betraying his former allies is what it will take for him to join the thief, then so be it.

Tweek isn’t fond of lying, but maybe this once, he could try.


	4. Detestation

When Tweek returns home to his and Kenny’s run-down apartment the next morning, he feels giddy. Betraying his allies to join Feldspar and then spend the night with him might have been a sudden decision for Tweek, but he doesn’t regret it. Unlocking the door, Tweek is greeted with the sight of Kenny flipping pancakes in a pan. The moment he notices Tweek his face shines up with a bright smile. “Hey, bro! Where were you last night? I got worried.”

Tweek stares at him, confusion apparent on his face. Kenny was awake at this hour? And he wasn’t drinking away the pain from being hungover? The words hitting Tweek the most though was him being worried. Kenny hasn’t shown his caring side towards Tweek in years, so he revels in the moment.

“I was-uh-out. You know,” Tweek answers with obvious uncertainty as he sits down at the table.

Kenny frowns for a second, but quickly recovers back to a smile. “Want some pancakes?”

Tweek nods vigorously as a plate is placed in front of him. He hasn’t had breakfast with Kenny in a while now. It’s nice. It’s _too_ nice. Is someone playing a trick on him, or is this a dream? Tweek carefully pinches his arm to check, but nothing happens. If this is real, then maybe everything can go back the way it used to be. Tweek and Kenny cooking together, even though Kenny is pretty bad at it. Tweek and Kenny eating together, Kenny has always been a glutton. Tweek and Kenny watching movies together, Kenny  would always let Tweek pick movie because he claimed to enjoy anything Tweek enjoyed. Tweek and Kenny, the way it used to be.

Kenny sits down in the empty chair across the table and grabs a pancake, lathering it in strawberry jam. “I know I’m not the best cook around,” he sends Tweek a knowing wink. “But these didn’t turn out too bad.”

Tweek nods and begins the process of drowning his own pancakes in syrup. Kenny always preferred the fresh taste of strawberries, but Tweek would kill for the sugarly overdose syrup supplied.

They eat in comfortable silence, Kenny throwing in a few jokes every now and then. This was not at all the morning Tweek had expected, but he doesn’t complain. Tweek offers to do the dishes but Kenny insists, leaving Tweek to sit on the couch and wallow in his thoughts. The long forgotten warmth Kenny always brought to the apartment is finally back, Tweek smiles to himself.

“We’re going on a very special mission today!” Kenny yells from the sink. “I know a cute blonde that needs some new clothes.”

Tweek finds himself blushing slightly at the statement. His and Kenny’s relationship is strictly platonic, seeing as they’re more like brothers than anything, but Tweek still absolutely adores being pampered and spoiled by him. Moving with a pep in his step, Tweek quickly changes to a new pair of clothes and then they’re off.

* * *

 

Tweek’s excitement quickly falters as a blonde boy he instantly recognizes approaches them. Kenny’s mood instantly skyrockets when he greets the boy, ruffling his hair a bit.

“Heya fellas! Thanks for letting me join you today,” the blonde says with a cheery smile. The blonde accompanying them isn’t just any blonde though, no, it’s none other than the infamous Professor Chaos. While he currently wasn’t on the bad side, Tweek still had a hard time trusting the former villain. What if him abandoning his evil ways was just a trick to join us, his true motive being to spy.

“Tweek? Dude, you’re spacing out,” Kenny waves a hand in front of his face. Tweek brings his attention back to Chaos and greets him with the sweetest smile he can muster.

“Alright where do you want to go first, Leo?” Kenny asks as he slides an arm over Chaos’s shoulders. Leopold Stotch, the real name of Professor Chaos. Of course Tweek knows what Chaos’s real name is, a requirement for joining their hero team is to reveal your identity to the other members, but using it has always seemed a bit too personal. This _is_ their former archenemy after all. Kenny doesn’t seem to mind though, cheerfully pulling them to one of the stores selling clothes.

Their trip does go a lot better than Tweek imagined, despite Leopold, or rather “Leo,” being there. For having vandalized the city and harassed innocent people for years, he proved to be a surprisingly nice guy. But there is one question that has been bugging Tweek all day, and when Kenny leaves for a bathroom break he voices it. “When did you two get so close?”

Leo looks at him in surprise, ever present smile faltering as he considers an answer. “Not long ago.”

The answer makes Tweek none the wiser and he decides to try a different approach. “Why?”

Once again Leo takes his time to think of an answer, brows knitted in concentration. “Jeez I’m not too sure, emotional support perhaps?” The statement catches Tweek’s attention and he listens intently as Leo continues. “He wanted someone to listen to his problems.”

Tweek frowns. He had always been there for Kenny, yet he didn’t trust him enough to confide in him about his problems? He would rather tell a complete stranger, or even worse their _archenemy_ , about his problems than Tweek?

When Kenny gets back he doesn’t pay Tweek’s inner turmoil any mind, instead bouncing up to Leo like a puppy. Tweek looks at them in disgust, Kenny has never treated Tweek like this, even back when they used to be close.

“Let’s get some ice cream,” Kenny suddenly starts with a smile. “I’ll pay but we’ll do rock paper scissors on who goes, alright Tweek?”

Playing childish games to decide who does chores has always been a staple in their apartment. After years of living together Tweek has noticed a few quirks that reveal what Kenny will pick, and right now it appears to be rock. Not wanting to spend any more time with either of the other two, Tweek picks scissors. Kenny hands him the money and waves him off, turning his attention to the blonde next to him. Tweek isn’t jealous, Kenny is allowed to have friends other than him, but how can he trust him if he doesn’t trust him enough to tell him about his problems? Tweek thought he knew Kenny, they had drifted apart through the years but he still thought he knew him. Maybe he was wrong.

The ice cream shop is empty when he enters, surprising since it’s a hot day outside. He walks up to the counter and looks through the different kinds on display. Back when they were kids Kenny would always bring him out for ice cream, Tweek picking the lemon flavor and Kenny picking whatever the weirdest flavor they had was. This shop has quite a number of flavors, but nothing too weird. Staring intently at the display, Tweek doesn’t notice the cashier eyeing him from behind the counter. “Lemon, sour like your mood?”

Tweek abruptly stops browsing and looks up, locking eyes with the other. _Feldspar_. Except he doesn’t look like Feldspar, his usual get-up and mask nowhere to be seen. Instead he’s wearing a blue t-shirt and an apron, black hair on display to everyone due to not wearing his ever present hat. His name also doesn’t appear to be Feldspar, the name tag adorning the name “Craig Tucker.”

“Craig? That’s an awfully bland name for  someone of your ilk.”

“You wound me, ice boy.” Feldspar, or rather _Craig_ , points at one of the flavors on display. “That one’s my favorite.”

“Vanilla? Again, awfully bland,” Tweek mocks. “I take it you’re pretty vanilla?”

“You’ll just have to find out,” Craig answers with a smirk. Tweek snorts and brings his hand up to the display. “I’ll have one lemon and one of the weirdest flavors you have.”

Craig quirks his brow with a curious glance. “Are you eating for two?”

“Oh my god- no!” Tweek’s breath hitches as he laughs. “I’m buying ice cream for me and some friends,” he reconsiders his statement. “Me, one kind of friend and an acquaintance.”

“That’s an odd group,” Craig says as he scoops some lemon ice cream in a cone. “Our weirdest flavor is in the back,” he places cone down in a stand and waves for Tweek to follow him to the backroom. Once inside, he quickly locks the door.

“What?” Tweek asks in annoyance, not in the mood for whatever Craig is planning.

“Give me the report.”

Tweek lets out an exasperated sigh. “There’s nothing to report, no meetings have been held.”

Craig eyes him suspiciously. “You know I trust you, right?”

Tweek’s heart skips a beat as his mind registers what was said. Craig trusts him- _Feldspar_ trusts him. Maybe Kenny doesn’t trust him, but at least Craig does. The thought gives him butterflies. He nods.

“Good, now move because you’re standing in front of our root beer flavored ice cream.’

“Root beer?”

“Yeah, some dolt thought it was a good idea.”

Craig fills another cone with the ice cream and places it in the stand. “You said you’re three people.”

“Oh yeah, he’s gonna get ice cream too,” Tweek thinks for a moment. “What’s the most boring, ugly and disgusting flavor you have?”

“Is that hostility I detect?”

“Piss off, _Craig_.”

He simply laughs in response and scoops some black ice cream into the cone. “It’s salty licorice, literally the worst flavor to ever exist.”

They both laugh at that as Tweek pays for the ice cream. He reaches out to grab the lemon one but is stopped by Craig snatching it from his fingers, taking a large bite from it. “Not as good as vanilla, but it’ll do.”

He licks his lips and hands the cone back to Tweek, leaning close to his ear. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.”

Tweek rapidly nods and walks out in a trance, all three ice cream cones clutched in his hands. He looks at his own ice cream and at the obvious mark Craig left. He slowly tastes it himself, blushing at the notion of an indirect kiss.

Kenny and Leo are happily chatting among themselves when Tweek arrive, barely noticing his arrival if it wasn’t for the cones shoved in their faces.

“Is this beer?” Tweek nods. “I’ve decided to stop drinking,” Kenny says with a smile.

Tweek stares at him in confusion, just last night he had been drinking like it was the end of the world. Noticing his confusion, Kenny quickly adds, “I promised Leo just now, since it’s healthier.”

He promised Leo just now, but he couldn’t promise Tweek in all the years he has been forced to deal with the drunkard?

“Oh Ken, we can share! I don’t much like licorice anyway,” Leo chirps with a bright smile. The two share Leo’s ice cream without a care in the world, leaving Tweek to his own devices. Why does Kenny suddenly trust his former archenemy more than he trust Tweek, his _ally_. Leo could be plotting to kill them both right now, to take down their hero organization from the inside. He could be working as a spy to extract intel, working by their side only to inevitably betray them in the end. But doesn’t distrusting Leo for these reasons make him a hypocrite?

This is exactly what Tweek is doing after all.


	5. Fragmentation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took 500 years, or was it a month? But I finally finished this chapter!

Tweek isn’t in his right mind.

Who joins the enemy, also known as the most evil man on earth, because of a mere squabble between friends? Tweek, apparently.

He grabs a tighter hold on the arm strap of the bag he’s carrying, glancing at his surrounding with suspicion. There can’t possibly be anyone that knows what he’s doing, right? Unless someone in the building has eyes that can see through solid metal it should be safe. But then again, you never know. Mosquito can summon thousands of mosquitoes to do his bidding, so it wouldn’t be the most surprising power to see.

He straightens his collar and makes sure the wig is in its place before walking up to the counter and showing the receptionist his ID. Well, the ID he’s been lent from the man currently being held captive in Feldspar’s basement. Despite being recruited by the evil overlord himself, Tweek has to gain everyone else’s trust by proving himself as a member. He supposes that it’s only fair, especially considering the fact that he still works within the famous group of heroes. Even so, sending a newbie to discreetly bomb an office might not have been the best of ideas.

Tweek walks confidently towards the room scribbled on the tiny note in his pocket, careful not to blow his cover. If anything goes wrong now and he’s found out, he will without a doubt be shunned by both the heroes _and_ Feldspar. If he manages this properly and without a hitch, only Feldspar and his goons will ever know who did it. But if the heroes find out Tweek will be punished for sure. After all, bombing a building isn’t very heroic behavior.

Tweek doesn’t consider himself to be a particularly evil person, but this mission won’t put him on Santa’s nice-list. Although Tweek wouldn’t call this a complete act of ill-will either, there are reasons why this building in particular was chosen. “Every each one of the people in this building are disgustingly rich, power-abusing lunatics that scam the public for even more money to fill their empty lives with,” as Feldspar so delicately put it.

Upon reaching the door, Tweek fumbles with the bloody keys. Cleaning them before this mission would probably have been a good idea, or he can just blame their appearance on ketchup. After successfully putting the key inside the lock, he quickly turns them and bolts inside. The room is nothing fancy, just an office with a probably very small budget. The guy using it doesn’t seem to be of a very high rank within this building, no wonder no one noticed that Tweek is currently taking his place. He walks up to the desk and unlocks the upper drawer, but it promptly interrupted by someone opening the door. “Peter, honey?”

Tweek freezes, who’s Peter? Has he been found out? One quick glance at the ID and he reads the name _Peter Mullen_. The woman waits patiently by the door, giving Tweek a warm smile.

“Yes?” Tweek quickly answers, based on the nickname this woman seems to know Peter especially well. He can’t mess this up now though, he only needs to place the bomb then leave.

The woman puts a strand of ebony hair behind her ear, a look Tweek can’t quite place on her face. “When do you get off, _sweetie_?”

Tweek gulps at her tone. He hasn’t been found out, has he? Quickly looking at the clock, Tweek utters something about five minutes. The woman walks back outside and closes the door, probably waiting for “Peter” to join her. Too bad he won’t, because Tweek hastily puts the small metal box inside the drawer and looks out through the window. Flying would be a nice power to have, but a thirty feet fall has never killed anyone. Probably.

He places a hand on the window and forms a sharp edge of ice. He has never used his powers for evil before, preferring to chill people rather than to stab them. Although he technically still hasn’t, he is just using it to cut open a window after all. Pushing the edge onto the window he cuts out a circle and places the it on the ground. Careful not to step on the glass, he swiftly jumps out the window. The landing is far from flawless and he can feel a limp as he walks towards the car waiting down the road. He spots Feldspar through the window and gives a thumbs up, then feels the heat from an explosion behind him. Feldspar nods his head with a wink and Tweek feels his heart skip a beat.

“Good job out there, didn’t think you had it in you to perform an act of terror.”

“What, are you calling me a pussy?” Tweek answers as he opens the door and fastens his seat belt.

“I don’t like pussy, but I do like you,” Feldspar says with a smirk. Tweek feels a blush rise to his cheeks and he quickly turns his head around towards the window.

Feldspar drives them through the city in comfortable silence. Tweek can feel himself drifting to sleep when Feldspar opens his mouth. “Want me to drive you home? It’s quite late.”

Tweek nods with a yawn and closes his eyes once more, letting the car’s whirring and Feldspar’s humming lull him to sleep.

* * *

 

Tweek is woken up by a hand firmly gripping his shoulder, all while shaking it slightly. “Wake up sleepy-head, we’re here.”

Tweek groans and rubs his eyes. Sleeping this soundly is a rare occasion these days. When he has successfully walked outside the car a note tiny note is shoved into his hands.

“I don’t live in the abandoned warehouse,” is all Feldspar says before driving away, the car’s light slowly fading into the night.

Tweek takes a deep breath and tightens his grip around the note. How did he end up in this situation to begin with? Past Tweek would never even have considered working with the villain, yet alone _talk_ to him. Tweek can’t quite put his finger on what has changed though.

He unlocks the door and is expecting a dark and silent room to greet him, but is instead met with the disapproving stare of none other than Kenny McCormick.

“H-hello?”

“Hello? _Hello_?” Kenny huffs and crosses his arms. “I haven’t seen you all day! Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Tweek frowns. “I don’t see you at all multiple days in a row sometimes.”

Kenny flinches slightly but quickly regains his composure. “That’s different.”

“How is that different? What, you get some kind of special privilege while I’m forced to stay inside this rotten apartment all day?”

Kenny makes a face expressing an emotion Tweek can’t quite place, but it’s quickly replaced with something more neutral. “You haven’t been acting like yourself lately, you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

Tweek feels his eye twitch with frustration. “You really expect me to confide in you when you yourself would rather approach a complete stranger than me?”

“What?” Kenny asks with furrowed brows.

Tweek takes a few confident steps forward and pushes a finger against Kenny’s chest. “Chaos told me before.”

Kenny’s face quickly falters and his head falls, eyes locked on the floor. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, it’s not?” Tweek scoffs with a snarl.

Kenny crosses his arms and takes a few steps back. “There are reasons why… things I can’t tell you.”

“But you can tell our former enemy!?” Tweek yells and takes another step forward. “I have taken care of you all this time.” One more step. “Despite your heavy drinking.” One more step. “Despite you leaving me alone for days.” One more step. “Despite you never treating me as anything more than a sidekick.” He takes a final step and looks Kenny in the eyes. “I still believed in you.”

Before Kenny can answer, Tweek jabs a finger in his chest.

“I,” another jab.

“Am,” another jab.

“Done,” another jab.

Grabbing his bag in haste, Tweek runs out of the apartment, slamming the door shut on his way out. Maybe Kenny will follow him, or maybe he won’t. Tweek can’t say that he cares, he already knows where he’s going. One glance at the note in his hand and a wave of reassurance washes over him. Kenny may not trust him, may not care if he breaks. But Feldspar will be there to pick up the pieces. _Craig_ will be there for him.

Maybe Tweek isn’t in his right mind, joining the enemy is in itself a test on sanity, but falling for them too? This is arguable the worst choice Tweek has ever made, but if that’s what it takes to feel someone else’s warmth again, Tweek doesn’t mind being a little crazy.


	6. Adoration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is way overdue, but better late than never!  
> It's been quite a hectic month but I should be able to update like normal from now on!

“We will start by infiltrating the heroes’ base to get the information we need about their upcoming mission,” Feldspar says with a nod towards Tweek. “I am leaving this mission to Tempest.”

Tweek looks around cautiously with a nervous smile, what if the other members still don’t trust him and find his role in this mission unfair? His thoughts are quickly interrupted by a strong hand being abruptly slammed on his back, practically knock him off balance.

“Nice job scoring a big mission right of the bat, little guy,” one of the ruffians say with a grin. “Good luck out there!”

Tweek nods a thank you and smiles to himself. Despite being vandalizing murderers with literally no morals, maybe these guys aren’t so bad after all.

“Further details will be given once we know when the heroes’ next big mission is,” Feldspar says with a crooked smile and manic laugh. “Then we strike.”

Everyone throws their hands up with a cheer, “aye, captain!” Then slowly leave the room one by one, chattering about what an amazing plan this is.

Soon enough Tweek, along with Feldspar, are the only ones left in the room. Still hearing voices from outside the slightly ajar door, Feldspar grabs one of the many books by the desk and throws it swiftly at the door, pushing it shut.

“Apple juice?” Feldspar asks with a grin while dangling the glass in front of the blonde’s eyes.

“No thanks.”

Feldspar brings the glass to his lips with a shrug and slumps down in the seat in front of Tweek. “Suit yourself.”

Cocking his head to the side with a curious glance, Tweek notices the eye bags sticking out from Feldspar’s otherwise flawless complexion. “Are you not getting enough sleep?”

“Perceptive of you,” Feldspar answers with a sip from his glass. “This mission will decide our future as villains, I want it to be as thoroughly planned as possible.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” The words leave Tweek’s mouth before he can think, but that isn’t to say he regrets them.

Swallowing the last of his juice, Feldspar puts down the glass on the table and leans in towards Tweek with a whisper. 

“You know, I was hoping you’d ask.”

* * *

 

The room is dark when Tweek enters and he reaches towards the light switch, hand stopped dead in its tracks by a light shove.

“Don’t. You’re late,” a quiet voice utters from below the stairs.

“I’m sorry, I had to work overtime.” That was a lie.

The voice lets out a deep sigh and groans. “Whatever, better late than never.” 

Following the sound of clinking bottles, Tweek slowly makes his way towards the table. It’s covered in scattered papers and finding the specific file he’s looking for turns out to be quite the challenge, current lack of light not helping the situation.

Tweek looks wistfully towards the light switch and takes a step towards the stairs, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist. “This hangover is killing me and if you so much as touch that switch I will kill you and then myself.”

Tweek quickly retracts his arm and sits down by the table again, shuffling through the papers. It’s surprising how effectively they can get things done when they can’t even put papers in a pile

“Murders, assault,” Tweek grabs another file, “vandalism-”

“I have the mission files here, let’s go already,” a few papers hit the ground as he slams the bottles against the table and abruptly stand up.

“Coming, Stan!” Tweek yells as he frantically searches through the files. Shuffling through a few more papers, his eyes finally find something of interest. Quickly stuffing the file in his bag, Tweek rushes after Stan, locking the door behind them both.

* * *

 

The usually busy streets are dark and empty when they arrive, not surprising since it’s just past midnight. Stan shudders slightly and tightens the scarf around his neck, nights in South Park are punishing for those without proper attire. Which just so happens to be the entire group of heroes. Tweek considers himself lucky in that regard, not feeling the night’s chill as an interruption during missions. Then there are heroes such as the human kite, who wear thin spandex on a daily basis. Not one of Kyle’s brightest ideas.

Stan takes a sip from one of the bottles he has stored in his belt. Cutting back on drinking would benefit both Stan and everyone else, but telling Stan that would benefit no one because he’s extremely stubborn. The most Tweek would gain from mentioning it now is a black eye and failed mission, which is not worth the effort.

They walk carefully down the street, eyes alert for anything suspicious. There have been multiple reports of armed robberies happening late at night, but the police still hasn’t managed to track the gunman down. Stan looks through the listings of descriptions in the file. “Acts after 12 am, takes bags, prefers blondes.”

“Hey, I’m blonde!”

“Yes congratulations, do you want a medal?”

Tweek shakes his head with an awkward laugh. “No I just- I mean, if we need a bait-”

Stan instantly cuts him off. “No way in hell, if anything went wrong Kenny would slaughter me. I prefer having my limbs intact and innards inside, thanks.”

Tweek sighs in defeat and rolls his eyes.  _ Kenny _ . That’s who it always boils down to in the end. Tweek has always been seen as Kenny’s sidekick, both in and out of costume. He has never been seen as his own hero, or person for that matter, despite his best efforts. The thought leaves a sour feeling in his stomach. He used to admire Mysterion,  _ adore  _ Mysterion. That has changed. His admiration and adoration, replaced with agitation.

Tweek’s attention is brought to the murmur of voices in the distance. Two girls are chatting happily while skipping down the street, not paying any mind to their surroundings. Which is lucky for the guy following them closely behind. The light tap of a hand on his shoulder signals Tweek to get into position as Stan prepares to strike. The plan is for Stan to catch the criminal off-guard with his tools as Tweek freezes them. It’s what they have always done and so far it hasn’t failed.

So far.

Approaching the girls, Stan’s fingers twitch towards the bottle at his belt. He has never been good at dealing with women, or anything at all for that matter. Deciding that the best way to deal with his problems is to drink. Stan and Kenny are similar in that regard, both wasting all their time drinking instead of actually accomplishing anything.

The robber turns around and runs along the shadows into an alley once noticing the girls are not alone. Stan bolts in the same direction with Tweek in tow, grabbing one of the bottles at his belt. Abruptly stopping in the pitch black alley, they barely notice the robber attempting to climb a high fence. Without much thought, Stan swings his arm and lets go of the bottle. The sound of glass shattering fills the alley as a limp body falls to the ground.

Blood has begun to pool beneath the robber’s head as they approach, causing Stan to click his tongue in annoyance. “I aimed for his hands, Killing him wasn’t in the file.”

Tweek nods slowly. Stan is known for his precise aiming, it’s a core part of his hero persona to throw different tools and hit his target.

Stan wobbles slightly before slinging his arm over Tweek’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get sick, leave?”

Tweek hoists him up and they start walking. The weight of Stan on his shoulder and heavy smell of alcohol in the air remind him of the late nights Kenny would stay out to drink. On a night like this Tweek would usually lay in bed at home, waiting for his phone to ring. On the other side of the line Kenny would be babbling something intelligible, causing Tweek to rush over there in worry only to find him blackout drunk. It’s not a memory Tweek has ever thought fondly of, but a smile still adorns his lips at the reminiscence.

* * *

 

Passing by multiple small houses, they slowly approach Stan’s house. Tweek drops Stan on the ground and looks through his pockets, trying to find the house keys. The door abruptly slamming open interrupts his search with a yelp. A woman with black, sleek hair is waiting on the inside, arms crossed and a frown plastered on her face. “Has he been out drinking again?”

“Uh- yes!” Tweek hurriedly answers, voice shaky.

The woman pays no mind to Tweek’s stutter and simply sighs with a hand to her temple. “I’ll bring him inside, thanks for the help.”

Tweek nods that it was nothing and scuttles off the porch, only daring to look back once he hears the door close. Big, brown eyes observe him from behind the curtains of a window and Tweek immediately turns back around. 

Despite never having met Stan’s wife before, Tweek feels like he recognizes her. The lingering feeling of having met her somewhere before persists until he reaches Feldspar’s, or rather  _ Craig’s _ , apartment. He lightly knocks on the door and waits a few minutes, only to have it open once he attempts to knock again.

“This may come as a surprise to you, but even criminals need sleep,” Craig mutters while combing a hand through his messy hair. He’s wearing his Red Racer pajamas, which looks even sillier than usual with his sleepy expression and messy hair.

“I found the files, but they don’t contain anything useful,” Tweek answers and hands him the bundle of papers.

Craig skims through them quickly before throwing them to the side. “None of these say what the heroes’ weaknesses are.”

Disappointment is apparent on his face and Tweek can’t help but feel bad, this was a mission only he could accomplish and he failed. Craig but his trust in him and he  _ failed _ . Desperate to win earn back Craig’s faith in him, Tweek decides to propose a new idea. 

“I can find them out on my own!” Memories of Stan drinking before and during the mission only to ultimately fail by missing his target, reminds Tweek that even if their flaws aren’t stated in the files, they still exist. “Stan is an alcoholic, which causes his aim to falter and clouds his judgement.”

Eyes big and mouth agape in surprise, Craig hums in agreement. “If you keep going at this rate, you’ll earn  _ employee of the month _ for sure.”

Tweek snorts but quickly feels his cheeks heat up and heart begin to beat out of his chest as Craig places a big hand on his head, patting it gently. 

“Thank you, Tweek.”


	7. Interpretation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another month, another chapter.  
> Now that I've finished my other fic, it means I can spend all my time on this one!  
> Things might get a bit slow since school's started, but I'll try my best to update regularly!

The streets are covered in darkness, the only light coming from a few windows. A cold gust of air knocks Tweek’s hat off as he desperately clutches his jacket closed, reaching aimlessly for the now far away hat.

The light tapping of quick feet against the pavement brings the warm hat back on his head, finishing up with a comforting pat.

“You gotta be more careful!” The boy next to him says with a wide grin and grabs his hand. Tweek tightens his grip around the warm hand and relaxes by the touch, he’ll always be safe as long as they’re together.

The two walk along the dark road in silence, neither brave enough to say a word lest someone would be watching them. Tweek’s arm gets pulled roughly and he hurries his pace, though his short legs make it harder to keep up with the other. He wasn’t sure where they were going, he was simply told to follow without asking too many questions. Of course Tweek wouldn’t normally do that, he’s not an idiot, but he trusted this person.

They soon arrive at what looks like an old, abandoned apartment complex. The metal gates are locked with a padlock and Tweek doesn’t see any keys. When the warmth leaves Tweek’s hand he looks up, startled by the fence’s clashing sound. The fence does not look stable and Tweek gulps with wide eyes as he stares at the metal wire. Noticing his distress, a hand is offered from the other side, pulling him up effortlessly.

Hands locked once more, the two trek forward towards the building. Tweek hasn’t seen horror movies, his parents would never allow it, but he knows that walking into an abandoned building is like asking to be murdered. A determined tug at his hand ushers him forward despite his better judgement.

The building’s first floor looks just how you would imagine an old, abandoned apartment complex would look. Paint is flaking off the walls, falling to the dust and grime covered floor. In the middle there’s a carpet, though the mold infested corners and questionable red stain don’t look very inviting. Tweek tightens his grip around the hand as they maneuver around the carpet and up the stairs. Each step creaks louder than the last as they slowly reach the second floor. Tweek is tugged towards a dark door, the jingle of keys filling the silence. The door appears to have multiple locks, each being filled with a key from the large bundle of keys clashing and jingling in the other’s hands. Tweek takes a look around the room while he waits. The stairs leading to the entrance were stable enough to walk up, but that can’t be said about the rest. The stairs leading to what would be the third floor have completely fallen apart, only the top remaining. By one of the empty walls is a tiny wooden table. It’s covered by an old cloth and has a vase with flowers on top. For being an abandoned building, the flowers are surprisingly fresh.

Once all the locks are undone, the door creaks open. Tweek’s hand is grabbed again and he’s pulled inside. The room smells faintly of some food Tweek can’t quite place. When they’re both inside the door closes behind them, eliciting a yelp from Tweek. You would probably expect a room in an abandoned building to be old, cold and dusty. The warm light embraces Tweek as they step inside the living room, which is covered in vibrant colours from wall to wall. They round a corner and the smell of food grows stronger. Tweek clutches his stomach as it rumbles desperately.

“Oh, Kenny, you’re back!”

“We almost thought you weren’t gonna show.”

The smell lead them to a table, already set, with two unfamiliar boys waiting. Kenny pulls out a chair and motions for Tweek to sit down.

A plate with some kind of soup enter Tweek’s vision as it slides in front of him, spoon included. He immediately digs in without much thought.

“So who’s this?” The boy with flaming, red hair asks. His red curls are reminiscent of living flames with the way they bounce as he moves, like a spreading wildfire.

“Tweek. Found him by the rails.”

“Don’t go picking up strangers left and right, what if he’s a snitch?” The other boy, who has straight, jet black hair asks. His light blue eyes are scrunched in suspicion as he points an accusing finger at Tweek.

“Don’t worry, we can trust him,” Kenny says and gives Tweek’s head a reassuring pat, “he has powers too.”

* * *

 

“Hello? Earth to Tweek?”

Tweek is abruptly woken up by the booming sound of a shrill voice next to his ear. He’s usually not one to oversleep, but staying up late with Feldspar every night takes its toll.

“Mornin’ Kyle,” he answers with a yawn.

“Morning? It’s afternoon. Now get your lazy ass out of bed, we have a mission.”

Missions with Kyle are always very structured. He plans all possible outcomes ahead of time, and if something unsuspected happens, he leaves. “Better safe than sorry,” is what he’ll always say. Finding a weakness in that air-tight defense will be a challenge.

Tweek quickly gets dressed and grabs a piece of toast before they leave. Kyle fills him in on the details of the mission as they walk down the streets. Recently there has been bar fights breaking out left and right. The fights seem to be started by one gang, judging by the blue hats they have all been wearing. So far they've never attacked the same bar twice, which is why they’ll be going to one of the possible targets.

“How do you know they’ll be at this bar? There are like five others that fit the criteria.”

“By process of elimination, this one seemed to fit the theme of the previously attacked bars more.”

Tweek doesn’t doubt Kyle’s deduction, if anything he trusts it wholeheartedly. While Mysterion is the face of the organization, Kyle is definitely the brain. He’s quick to form plans and was the reason the organization started to begin with. Kenny might have come up with the idea, but Kyle was the one who did all the research.

The two soon arrive at the bar, which seems normal enough. They don’t garner much attention despite wearing their hero clothes, probably because the bar has a costume night. Kyle leads them to a table and scouts the area. “If you see anyone with a blue hat, tell me.”

Tweek nods and leans back in the chair. Missions like these are extremely boring in his eyes. What’s the point of just waiting around for someone that might not even show up? He orders a glass of water and sips in silence.

The wait for something to happen doesn’t take long, as Tweek only manages to finish his glass by half before three scruffy guys with blue hats barge through the doors. Not wasting any time to catch their attention, Kyle grabs Tweek’s glass from his hands and throws it at one of the guys in blue. The glass collides with his forehead and he falls down to his knees, clutching his head in agony. The glass shards sink deep in his skull and a huge gash spews blood that pools on the floor below. Kyle quickly grabs Tweek’s hand and bolts out through the back door, the loud sound of multiple running feet following them closely behind.

Once the two reach a wall they stop and turn around. Only two of the three guys followed, not surprising considering the condition the third one was in. No words are said as a punch is thrown Tweek’s way, which he just barely dodges, causing the ruffian to fall onto the ground. The guy’s mask falls off during the fall and Tweek’s eyes widen in realization. He knows these guys, they work under Feldspar. Chewing his lip in confusion, Tweek kneels down to the man on the ground with a whisper. “Why are you fighting me? We’re on the same side.”

The man turns his head towards Tweek and scoffs. “Same side? I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but everyone at the base _hates_ you.”

Tweek pales at the words, “Feldspar never told me.”

The man bursts out into a laugh, “you’re relying on _Feldspar?_ He’s just using you, man. Do you think he _actually_ cares about you? He only cares about the info you can give him.”

In the past Tweek would have been crushed by this, heart broken to pieces. But not this time. Who does this guy think he is, spewing lies about Feldspar, about _Craig?_ The man’s eyes go wide in worry as Tweek stands up, slowly walking towards him. Placing one foot on his head, Tweek digs his heel into the man’s cheek. “You know, maybe you’re right. Maybe he only cares about the info.”

Seeing the man’s eyes bulging as his breath hitches in horror gives Tweek a tingly feeling. He spins his heel on the man’s cheek, scraping the skin enough for droplets of blood to fall.

“But did you also know?” He turns the heel once more. “I’ll gladly serve him that info on a silver platter.”

The crushing of bones echoes between the walls as Tweek forcefully brings his foot down onto the man’s head, skull cracking with every step. Tweek can see why Feldspar would enjoy this, the rush of adrenaline from watching the blood pool below his feet quite addicting.

Tweek steps away from the corpse and glances at Kyle, who’s holding the other guy by the collar if his shirt. The ruffian has some burn scars, but nothing too big.

“Dude, punch him!” Tweek yells from where he’s standing when Kyle makes no move to touch the other.

“But what if this was their plan and his skin is corrosive!?”

“What?” Tweek stares at him in confusion. “Don’t think, just punch!”

Kyle slams the man’s head against the pavement with closed eyes, sighing in relief when his hands don’t melt. Tweek helps him up and they walk away in silence.

* * *

 

The tiny space of Craig’s apartment becomes very noticeable when you’re two grown men squished together on his tiny sofa. Tweek feels hot in his seat by the way Craig’s leg brushes against him, almost teasingly.

“So, did you find anything?” Craig asks while taking a sip from his apple juice.

“Well I- I thought it would be difficult, but Kyle has a weirdly obvious flaw.”

Craig puts his glass down on the table and raises a brow. “Oh? Do tell.”

Tweek leans back in his seat with a deep breath. “Kyle over thinks. A lot. Simple strategies don’t even cross his mind.”

Craig nods in affirmation, patting Tweek on the head. “Good job, I knew I could count on you.”

He leans in for a kiss and Tweek reciprocates eagerly. Mentioning his discussion with the ruffian would be unnecessary, all he said was lies after all. Legs intertwined, Tweek grasps the fabric of Craig’s shirt. Their relationship is based on lies, so Tweek having one of his own won’t matter, right?


	8. Parasitization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time really flies between chapters!  
> This one is kind of short, but we'll soon get to the meatier parts.  
> Due to some personal issues I won't be able to finish the next chapter in a while, but I'll try my best to not make the wait too long!

Not all heroes wear capes, and not all cape wearing people are heroes. That is something Tweek learned during his first encounter with Eric Cartman. Eric Cartman is a selfish, sadistic, sociopath. Why he even became a hero in the first place, and why he’s still allowed to be a part of the organization is beyond Tweek.

Usually Tweek would keep these feelings to himself and not let it bother him. Usually Tweek won’t even need to talk to Eric if he doesn’t want to, which he never does. Usually Tweek is not forced to go on a mission with him because everyone else is too busy and he’s the only one left. Today is not a day where the usual happens.

Leaves rustle beneath their feet, the crisp autumn air blowing against their faces. Eric shudders beside him, loudly exclaiming that he hates the cold. Tweek blows a chilly gust of wind towards his complaining associate, causing the other to yell even louder. Maybe not the best idea for stealth, but it was worth it.

Their mission today is to be on the lookout for a shoplifter. The store’s manager has noticed items going missing and suspects someone might be stealing them. It’s a simple enough mission, the real challenge here will be working with this fat piece of lard.

Upon arriving at the store, they don’t notice anything out of the ordinary. The store’s walls are covered in an old, flaking red with a wooden door upfront. Outside the store is an arcade machine. It’s an old pinball game, having the theme of space. Tweek approaches the game and searches his pockets for any coins. He is by no means rich, but there is enough for a few games. As Tweek puts the first coin in, Eric lets out an exasperated groan. “I’m not here to watch you nerd out on some gay space game.”

“Then don’t watch.”

The ball falls into the machine with a thud and Tweek flips the handles. He hasn’t played a game like this in a very long time. Back when they were kids, Tweek and Kenny would spend pennies they found on the streets to play arcade games. They rarely won anything, but the excitement alone was worth the money in their eyes.

Eric groans for the fifth time in a row and kicks the closest wall impatiently. “How long are we gonna be stuck out here? I could be at home now!”

Choosing to ignore his whining companion, Tweek puts another coin in the machine. The ball bounces against the bumpers with a pleasant clinking. He plays the game for what felt like five minutes, but was in actuality 1 hour. Tweek stumbles to the side as he’s forcefully shoved away from the game, ball falling into the drain. His first thought is to yell at Eric, but Eric is not there. The man before him is no one he has seen before. Neat, lean, clean, those are the best words to describe the game stealing man. Not one for conflict, Tweek bites the bullet and steps aside. The man flips the switches with finesse, scoring point after point. Tweek finds himself captivated by the nimble fingers.

The loud sound of a door being slammed open catches Tweek off-guard and he stumbles against the wall as Eric pushes past him.

“That’s him!” Eric yells with an accusing finger pointed towards the now bolting man. “Chase him!”

The two sprint after the man who has a surprising amount of stamina. Not wasting time to let him get away, Tweek swiftly flicks his wrist to freeze a puddle in front of the man. Once reaching the puddle, the man slips and tumbles to the ground, giving Tweek and Eric enough time to catch up.

“Would you look at that!” Eric says with a smug grin while confidently strutting towards the man. “The thief catches himself!”

He slowly paces closer to the man and Tweek bites his lip in agitation. Torture has never seemed appealing to Tweek, especially not unwarranted. Eric Cartman is different in that regard, he _revels_ in torture. One of the many reasons he’s rarely sent on missions.

Eric kicks the crumbled man harshly with his boot and lets out an arrogant laugh. Tweek feels his mouth twitch as he watches the display before him.

The show doesn’t go on for long though, as Eric painfully cries out while clutching his face. The man quickly kicks the fat piece of lard to the ground and runs off into the woods. A knife is left where the man once stood, dripping with dark red blood. Blood gushes from the deep gash on Eric’s face, and Tweek can’t help but smile. It’s what he deserves, after all.

Choosing to patch up Eric’s sorry face instead of chasing the thief might not have been the best idea, but he’d rather fix him up than listen to him whine about being left to die on their way back.

The quiet rumble fills Tweek’s pocket and he picks the phone up. “Hello?”

Someone clears their throat on the other side of the line, “hey Tweek, can you come over?”

Tweek’s heart makes a spin as he sputters out, “y-yeah! Be there in a minute!”

Once the call ends Tweek clutches the phone close to his chest. It’s the first time Craig has actually _asked_ him to come over. The thought makes his mind run wild and he almost manages to forget the still bawling Eric on the floor.

* * *

 

To say Tweek ran through the city would be an understatement, seeing as he’s dashing down the streets. He wouldn’t say that he’s scared of the dark, despite what everyone else thinks. The darkness itself isn’t scary, it’s what lurks _beyond_ the darkness. “If you can’t see it, it’s probably there” is a philosophy Tweek has always lived by, ever since he was a kid. Maybe not the best thing to tell your 3 year old child, but his parents were never known as the smart ones.

Light from inside the few lit windows he passes by illuminates the street as his legs carry him closer to the warehouse. After his encounter with one of the ruffians the other day Tweek can’t say that he’s looking forward to entering the place he once found somewhat comforting. If it truly is as he said, then it would be wise to stay on your toes. Even if they dislike him now, he’ll prove his worth sooner or later. Preferably sooner.

The large metal door creaks as he pulls it open and shuffles inside. The hall is empty as he enters, Tweek quickly counts his blessings before tip-toeing up the stairs. Craig’s underlings sometimes get a rare night off to spend doing whatever they want, wherever they want. Tonight appears to be one of those nights.

Craig is waiting by the window inside his self-assigned room, rolling the glass of apple juice between his fingers as he gazes out the starlit window. Bewitched by the sight, Tweek takes a moment to collect his thoughts before clearing his throat. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hello, Tweek,” Craig turns around gracefully and leans his back towards the window. “I presume your mission is going well so far?”

“Ah-uh-yes? Yes.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” The glass gleams in the moonlight as Craig twirls it before taking a sip. “Any news to report?”

Tweek tries to think back on today’s mission as his eyes are locked on Craig’s tongue licking the excess juice off of his lips. “Er-Eric isn’t a very good fighter because he overestimates himself and underestimates his enemies. Not a very good combination.”

Craig nods as he listens intently to Tweek’s every word. He can feel his face heat up at the attention and quickly shoots back, “was there any other reason you called me here?”

Craig’s face shifts from curious to amused, smile forming into a smirk. “Maybe I did.”

Tweek can feel his heart beat faster as he struts confidently towards Craig. He grabs the thief’s collar and drags him down with a harsh tug, locking their lips like many nights before. It’s not something new by this point, it’s become a routine if anything. Tweek still feels the butterflies in his stomach stir despite the attained familiarity, wishing he could stay like this forever.

But wishes are nothing but goals you doubt your own ability to achieve.


	9. Realization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This year will soon has come to its end, but this story is far from done!  
> It's been long but with exams and Christmas over, I'm finally able to continue writing :)  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter despite the wait!

Thin rays of light seep through the curtain as birds chirp happily outside. Tweek doesn’t pay much attention to the time displayed on the room’s many clocks, but gathers that it’s way too early to get up. The man next to him stirs in his sleep and mumbles something incoherently. It’s cute, Tweek thinks.

Not really in the mood to get out of bed into the frozen air outside his covers, Tweek nuzzles back into the warm heat underneath. Turning his head to the side, his eyes are met with the calm expression on Craig’s sleeping face. The smirk always plastered on his face is replaced by a small smile with some drool at the edges. Not a very fitting image for the misfamous villainous overlord.

Letting out a deep sigh as he leans back against the pillow, Tweek puts an arm over his eyes to block out the rays of sunshine. Moments like this are a rarity nowadays, with all the work being shoved onto him from both Craig and the other heroes. Tweek is grateful for the opportunity granted to him by Craig, but being on a constant lookout for clues on how to defeat the heroes is exhausting. Tweek has never considered himself mentally strong, Kenny even calls him gullible, but living as a lie to everyone you once held dear would be emotionally taxing for anyone. It isn’t as if Tweek regrets his decision, he’s finally doing something for himself. No more putting others on a pedestal. Everything Tweek does now, is for himself.

Of course, helping Craig is also for himself. Craig might like him, or he might be using him. The intentions behind his actions don’t matter much, because the result will be the same. For now Tweek prefers to skip the details and live in the moment, seize the day and all that. Tweek likes Craig, a lot, which is why he doesn’t complain when said man cups his cheeks and presses a light kiss onto his lips. “Mornin’ sunshine.”

“Using pet names now, are we?”

Craig snorts and grabs a pillow to cover his eyes. “It was merely a greeting for the hot lasers burning holes in the curtains.”

With feigned offense Tweek slaps Craig’s cheek lightly. A hand quickly grabs his wrist and pulls him forward, chest landing flush against Craig’s own. Tweek heats up at the close proximity and feels his face flush as Craig locks their lips together once more. Oh, he definitely doesn’t mind this.

* * *

 

Slamming open the door just as the clock hits 12, Tweek falls onto his knees and leans back against the wall. Running all the way from Craig’s apartment to the heroes’ base is not an easy feat and left Tweek a panting mess. He can already feel Mysterion’s disapproving glare boring into his head as he catches his breath.

“You’re late.”

Tweek tenses up by the obvious annoyance displayed in Mysterion’s voice. “I-uh-forgot the time.”

“I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes.” Mysterion stands up from his chair and walks towards Tweek, hovering over his body. “You’ve been acting weird lately, get your shit together.”

Tweek locks his eyes with Mysterion’s and nods slowly. His words are harsh but his eyes show a glimmer of worry and hurt. Tweek hasn’t seen Mysterion-or rather, Kenny-in days, yet alone talked to him. The thought of Kenny sitting alone in their apartment at night, worrying about what Tweek has been up to, causes a sense of guilt to creep up within Tweek.

But then again, if Tweek acted like usual what would the difference be? Kenny doesn’t care about him, he never has. The phone in Tweek’s pocket hasn’t received a call from Kenny in weeks, despite their separation.

Mysterion offers his hand to Tweek and pulls him up from the floor. “We’re partners today,” Tweek almost misses the small smile on his face as he turns around, “it’s been a while.”

 

* * *

 

Huge flames engulf the city. The sound of crackling fire and buildings collapsing muffles any other sound. Amidst the chaos a boy is running with all the might his tiny legs can muster. He knows screaming won’t help, but he does it anyway. He knows his voice is eaten by the flames, but he screams at the top of his lungs. He knows there’s no one there to help him, but he still calls out for  _ someone _ ,  _ anyone _ , to help him. He knows they’re all dead, but he still has hope.

Stumbling on a fallen plank, the boy falls onto the ground. He can feel the heat closing in and flames licking at his feet. With barely any energy left, the boy closes his eyes with a shaky breath and calls out one last time.

“Hello? Anybody there?”

* * *

 

Raindrops weigh Tweek’s hair down as he shuffles closer to the wall in hope of cover. The weather forecast hadn’t mentioned a single drop of rain being on the horizon, so when the sky suddenly opened itself there was no time to find shelter before the inevitable. Glancing at his partner, Mysterion doesn’t look too bothered by the rain. He would probably care more about his current state as a dripping, wet dog if it wasn’t for the lock he's rustling impatiently. The heroes had received an anonymous letter earlier that week, about suspiciously lit windows and sounds coming from the old lab.

By the looks of it, no one has entered this building in years. The lock rattles stubbornly against the door as Mysterion furrows his brows in annoyance. While Mysterion seemingly always carries a calm and collected image, you don’t need an all-seeing eye to notice when it cracks. From the years spent by the other’s side, Tweek easily noticed any change in Mysterion’s mood despite his best efforts to seem stoic and unfeeling.

One swift kick slamming into the door in frustration  is Tweek’s cue to step in. Sending a chill through the air with a breath, Tweek freezes the lock and does a flimsy karate chop to split it in half. Mysterion crosses his arms and rolls his eyes with a scowl. “You could have done that 20 minutes ago, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

Mysterion turns around, cape nearly slapping Tweek in the face, and pushes open the doors. Warm air hits their faces as they step inside. Despite the warm air surrounding them, the stone floor is cold as ice. Tweek can see a broken glass bottle on the floor, its contents frozen solid. Looking around intently as they move forward, Tweek sees the floor closing in as he stumbles into something and trips. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the impact, but it never comes. A warm, sturdy arm is quickly pushed underneath him, stopping him from reaching the ground. Looking up at his savior, Tweek notices the glimmer of worry in Mysterion’s eyes.

“T-thanks,” Tweek sputters out as he steadies himself on the ground.

Mysterion quickly withdraws his hand and crosses his arms once more, “it was nothing.”

They continue onward through the room like nothing happened, but looking at Mysterion’s back sends Tweek a feeling of unease. The two soon reach a door and Mysterion opens it without hesitation. There isn’t a lot going on inside, just a few chairs covered with a huge piece of cloth and a cupboard with empty vials. There’s also a box in the middle of the room. Upon closer inspection, the box is a neatly wrapped gift in bright colors.

Tweek takes a step in to the room but is abruptly stopped by a hand blocking his path. “Don’t go in, this is obviously a trap.”

“But if it’s a trap, shouldn’t we get rid of it? What if a civilian stumbles across it?”

Mysterion furrows his brows in concentration, but keeps his hand in front of Tweek.

“I’ll go,” he says and pushes Tweek back with a pat to his chest. Tweek stumbles onto the floor outside the door as he watches Mysterion approach the obviously suspicious gift.

Grabbing one of the strings and pulling it, the gift unfold neatly in front of Mysterion. Inside is a metal box Tweek finds familiar. The box isn't very big, and on the front there are red numbers displayed. The numbers tick down loudly as Mysterion inspects the box.

Once the numbers display only one minute remains, Mysterion puts the box down and turns to Tweek. “I can't turn it off, run.”

“You were looking for an off switch!?”

“Well, yeah,” Mysterion answers and grabs Tweek’s hand as he runs past.

“You think bad guys would just put an off switch on their bomb!? They’re not that stupid!”

Mysterion tightens his grip on Tweek’s hand as they run, “you haven’t fought some of the criminals I have.”

“Well most criminals aren’t that stupid!”

“You seem to know a lot about criminals.”

Tweek’s breath hitches.

Mysterion takes a sharp turn and Tweek fumbles to keep up. They’ve almost reached the exit when Tweek feels his legs stumble into something and sees the floor get closer. He loses his grip on Mysterion’s hand and falls to the ground. By his feet he spots an empty wine glass, somehow still intact.

The loud blast from the bomb makes Tweek’s head hurt. Walls and windows shatter from the explosion and Tweek sees the shards flying towards him. He closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable collision.

Except it never comes.

Tweek feels hot puffs of hair on his face and a warm liquid on his hand. Slowly opening his eyes, Tweek is met with Mysterion’s gaze, filled with worry.

Mysterion takes a raspy breath before opening his mouth, “are you alright?”

Tweek nods slowly and feels a drop of something warm land on his cheek.

“That’s… good,” Mysterion answers before his head falls on Tweek’s shoulder.

Tweek looks over Mysterion’s back. The cape is completely shredded and shards of glass are embedded in his skin. Blood is dripping everywhere and Tweek finds himself covered in it. The smell of iron nauseates Tweek and he takes a deep breath. Hot puffs of air tickle Tweek’s neck and he relaxes. Mysterion isn’t dead and that’s good.

Tweek stops in his thoughts.

Should he be happy? Mysterion is the enemy, after all. His goal is to defeat the heroes. All of the heroes. That includes Mysterion, right?

Slipping out from beneath Mysterion, Tweek pushes him slightly to the side. Hand grabbing aimlessly in his pocket, Tweek fishes out his fishes out his phone. Fingers dial the number on instinct and Tweek presses the phone to his ear.

The beep sounds three times before a calm voice picks up, “hey Tweek.”

“Hey-I-” he takes a deep breath, “I know Mysterion’s weakness.”

The curiosity in Craig’s voice is audible as he speaks, “oh? Please, do tell.”

Glancing over at Mysterion’s collapsed form, resting in a pool of blood and glass, Tweek feels a twinge of guilt. But with Craig waiting eagerly on the other side of the line, Tweek doesn’t get much time to contemplate his decision and he reluctantly opens his mouth.

“Mysterion’s weakness,” he closes his fist as he tears his eyes away from the body, “is me.”


	10. Neutralization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anticipated clash of sides!  
> I've been looking forward to writing this chapter since day one, and it took some time but it's finally here.  
> I hope you enjoy reading it! ^^

“I have already explained this a million times, but let’s go through it again in case any of you dumb fucks missed anything.”

Tweek squirms anxiously in his seat as Feldspar explains the extremely detailed plan to everyone. By the extent of detail and thought through scenarios, Tweek wouldn’t be surprised if Kyle made it. Except Kyle obviously would not have made it, since it’s a plan to defeat the heroes for good.

The meeting takes about an hour and once it’s over Tweek can confidently say that he did not hear a single thing that was just said. The sound of chairs scraping the floor surrounds him but is quickly cut off by a door slamming closed. Opening his eyes, Tweek notices he’s alone in the room. A content sigh leaves his mouth as he leans back in the chair, closing his eyes once more. He doesn’t doubt the plan, he doesn’t doubt  _ anything  _ Feldspar, or rather Craig, does. It will be flawlessly executed and they will rule the city without fail. Tweek doesn’t doubt Craig’s power, or any of the underlings for that matter, but it still leaves a sour feeling in his mouth. 

Fingers tenderly move to his lips with a gentle tap. He’s totally in the mood. Despite all this chaos and destruction, he’s still in the mood. The power of love, maybe?

Upon opening his eyes, his breath hitches.

“Hello.”

“H-hello.”

Staring down at him, way too close for comfort, is Craig. He puts his hands on Tweek’s shoulders and massages them with gentle kneading. “Did you have a question about the plan?”

“I-uh-no?” Tweek stutters out as his face becomes increasingly redder with every movement of Craig’s hands.

“You seem tense,” Craig moves his fingers gently over Tweek’s throat, “are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?”

Tweek gulps as his mouth twitches when Craig’s hands move lower. “W-well, I think I might need another briefing of the plan.”

Craig leans forward as his hands go lower. “If you want a briefing,” he spins the chair around and sits down on Tweek’s lap before leaning in, arms wrapping around his neck before he can think, and whispers with intoxicating breath, “I’ll give you a briefing.”

* * *

 

Water pours from the hat as he wrenches it over the floor, a sloppy puddle quickly forming. The forecast didn’t mention any sudden downpours for today, but then again do they ever mention anything useful?

Once he deems the hat dry enough, Tweek heaves himself up the stairs. He grabs the rails tightly to not slip on the glossy surface created by the drops of water falling from his coat. His shoes squeak with every step and Tweek can feel his sanity diminish. He doesn’t have to suffer for long though, as he sees the door appear around the corner.

It’s been a while since he was last here, but seeing the wooden door brings a homely feeling of warmth he sometimes finds himself missing at Craig’s place.

Grabbing the keys from his pocket, Tweek sloppily  pushes them into the lock. Without even needing to turn the keys, the door creaks open. Figures it’s unlocked, like always.

He takes a step inside and closes the door behind him with a quick greeting to the silent apartment. No response. He tries again while putting away his coat, a little louder this time. Still no response.

The living room is eerily dark and quiet as he enters, but judging by the sounds coming from the couch he knows he’s not alone. The rugged breathing and thrashing of fabric gets louder as Tweek approaches the couch. He tries to be as sneaky as possible, as if he doesn't already know what’s causing the sounds.

Tweek feels a twinge of guilt as he looks down on the couch. Kenny is sleeping, but definitely not peacefully. The bandages covering his body are soaked with sweat and his face carries a painful expression. There’s a blanket hanging off his feet, it probably fell down by all the thrashing in his sleep. Tweek didn’t put the blanket here, which means it was probably Leopold. Jealousy hits him like a brick and he grits his teeth in disgust. Sure he hadn’t been home in a while, but if Kenny needed help he could have at least called  _ him _ , not the ex-villain.

Grabbing the edges of the blanket, Tweek pulls it back up over Kenny. His face is red and his breathing uneven. Tweek delicately puts a hand on his face and brushes away some of the hair. It’s warm. 

The painful expression on Kenny’s face as he sleeps isn’t anything new. He usually carries it when dreaming a nightmare, or at least that’s what he said. The redness is unusual though, but that’s because he usually isn’t on the verge of death. The scene reminds Tweek of an event from the past. After playing outside in the rain and getting drenched, Kenny suffered from a serious cold. Tweek’s healing powers weren’t very developed back then, but he managed to keep Kenny from getting worse. He doesn’t remember why they were outside so long to begin with, but the immense concern is still as bright as day.

Glancing towards the kitchen, Tweek notices the dirty dishes. He made soup for Kenny back then, it was the only thing he didn’t refuse to eat. He hasn’t made soup for Kenny in a while now, does he still like it?

Looking back at the sleeping face, Tweek drags his hand over the scars. This face is so different from the face he knew as a kid. The scars are very faint, some only noticeable by touch. Tweek taps his finger over the right eyebrow. Across the eyebrow is a faded line, a line he wouldn’t notice if he didn’t know it was there. It’s from when they first met, even if Tweek doesn’t remember the details. Everything from that night is a blur, but maybe it’s best that way. He would rather live happily unknowing, than suffer from the memories.

Kenny stirs slightly in his sleep. His breathing and movement seems to have calmed down from earlier. The earlier expression on his face has been replaced with something calm. It’s an unusual expression and Tweek savors the moment. Ever since they became heroes, he either looks angry or dazed. Each expression fitting Mysterion or Kenny.

He looks so open now, so vulnerable. Tweek feels his fingers twitch with electricity as his hand is placed on Kenny’s chest. His cheeks stretch into a grin as he taps the fabric separating his twitches from reaching Kenny. It would be so easy. Enveloping his fingers around the throat with a squeeze. Pressing his thumbs in until he hears a satisfying crack.

Tweek jolts of the couch as Kenny mumbles something in his sleep. He stares at his hands in horror. What was he thinking? He quickly gets up from the floor, not looking back as he closes the door behind him.

* * *

 

“An anonymous source has reported suspicious activity in the old factory, possibly involving the evil overlord himself.” The room’s atmosphere goes tense as Kyle finishes the sentence.

“The evil overlord? Like,  _ the  _ evil overlord?”

“Yes Stan,  _ the  _ evil overlord.”

Eric raises his hand, “does that mean all of us have to go?”

“Yes, we should all go to minimize the risk of failure. Who knows what the guy has planned.”

“Aw man, do I have to? I don’t want to,” Eric whines.

“Yes, fatass! We all have to go! If your lardy ass sit this one out I’ll personally strangle you.”

“Kinky,” Eric gives Kyle a side-eyes grin and the latter puts his head in his hands.

Most meetings go like this by Tweek’s experience. Eric isn’t a huge threat to Craig’s plan, so Tweek couldn’t care less whether he came along or not, but any of the others staying away would benefit it greatly.

The room is suddenly quiet and Tweek looks up to see that everyone is staring at him.

“W-what?” He sputters out.

“I asked what you think if the plan,” Kyle answers simply.

“I-uh-think it’s good?” The answer comes out more as a question than an answer and Kyle gives him a questioning look. “I think it’s good!” Tweek yells a second time.

“Al…. right,” Kyle looks down at his papers again, “anyway, do you have any pointers Stan?”

The conversation goes on as if nothing happened and Tweek slumps down in his chair with a sigh of relief. Tweek has never been good with secrets, and he’d rather not mess up now of all times. 

Listening to the heroes’ plan brings a giddy feeling to his stomach. He would describe it as when a kid knows something the other kids don’t, well it probably applies to adults too. The bubbly feeling causes a small smile to form on his face as he twiddles his thumbs in anticipation. As usual, neither of the heroes pay him much attention or thought, so he can revel in his knowledge without being bothered.

Except he doesn’t notice Mysterion’s lingering gaze from the corner of his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Gravel and mud travel up his legs as they run through the forest. Puddles cover the ground and Tweek’s feet are soaked all the way through his socks. Stan shudders next to him and rubs his arms with clattering teeth. Tapping Stan’s shoulder lightly, Tweek sends a small jolt of electricity through his fingers. The shock was enough to spread some warmth and Stan looks up gratefully. “Thanks dude”

Tweek shakes his head with a smile and focuses his eyes back on the path. A large building can be seen towering over the trees in the distance, indicating that they are getting closer to the factory. Usually when they’re on a mission it’s just one or two of them, but this time it’s all of them. Running in a pack like this feels more like a group excursion than anything. Tweek giggles at the thought. The last time all of them were on a mission together was when they defeated Professor Chaos. At the start of the hero organization, everyone always went on missions together. The amount of missions they got was scarce though, so they took any opportunity they got to use their powers. Once the group got more well known though, they started splitting up to handle more missions. The only times they all go together are on huge missions like this.

A tall metal fence comes into view and they all stop in their tracks. Mysterion gestures for Tweek to stand on his shoulders, to which Tweek obliges. He puts his feet on Mysterion’s shoulders and grabs his head to steady himself when he rises off the ground. Grabbing the fence, Mysterion gives him a boost in height and he can easily get to the other side. The process is repeated with every member until only Mysterion is left. The caped hero takes a few steps back and leaps over the fence. Tweek finds himself mesmerized by the way his cape flows through the wind and stares at the man in awe. Mysterion lands gracefully on all fours, but takes a second to collect himself. Tweek notices the hesitation in his movement and offers him a hand. Mysterion accepts the help and staggers to his feet, telling them all to move forward.

The huge door at the factory’s entrance is unlocked. Kyle notes that it’s suspicious but Stan shrugs it off.

“Stan, why on earth would they leave the door open if they’re trying to keep secret?”

Stan takes a swig from his bottle, “I dunno dude, maybe someone forget their keys.”

The group treks on forward into the factory with caution. Once inside, their feet echo against the ground as they come to a stop. While the factory looked large from the outside, it’s absolutely enormous inside. There are multiple doors and floors, all of which must be examined. Tweek’s mission, his  _ real  _ mission, is to split up the heroes. They’re stronger together and can cover each others’ weaknesses, which is why Tweek has to eliminate that strength.

Just as he’s about to propose them to split up, Mysterion’s voice echoes through the factory. “Every room in this factory has to be examined, we should split up to save time.”

Kyle looks uncertain but doesn’t protest, Mysterion’s word is what goes. Always.

Everyone picks a different door and moves forward, but just as Tweek’s hand touches the handle a hand grabs his shoulder from behind.

Turning around, Tweek’s eyes are met with Mysterion’s, who quickly looks away. He grabs Tweek’s hand and drags him towards another door.

“You’re coming with me.”

The stoic voice tries to sound indifferent, but Tweek can feel the sweaty palms gripping his hand tightly as they leave the room.

Monitors cover the walls and different machinery litter the tables. Tweek has never been here before and is amazed by all the equipment here. Mysterion presses a few buttons and slams some of the machines against the table.

“What are you doing?” Tweek asks with a tap on Mysterion’s shoulder.

“Trying to get these monitors to work,” Mysterion says and presses another button, “there’s no electricity.”

Tweek moves his hand across the table to let it rest on one of the monitors. His fingers tickle as he sends a jolt of electricity through the monitors, their screens all lighting up in victory.

“Good job,” Mysterion says and pats him lightly on the head.

The warmth of Mysterion’s hand spreads through his body like a disease, making him lightheaded. Once the hand is gone, Tweek reaches to the spot with his own, replacing the warmth with his cold hands.

“Tweek, look,” Mysterion points at one of the monitors, “there he is.”

On the monitor is a huge room. The room is almost completely empty, no furniture or lights anywhere. Tweek’s eyes are caught by the only thing in the room, a tall man grinning at the camera. Craig.

Mysterion immediately moves towards the door and Tweek is quick to follow. He doesn’t get far though as he crashes into Mysterion’s back, who flinches before turning around with an accusing finger pointed towards Tweek.

“You stay here.”

“What? Why!?” Tweek asks in disbelief. First he wanted them to stick together, now he wants to go alone. Can he make up his mind?

“Because I said so,” Mysterion answers and exits the room, closing the door behind him.

Tweek stares at the door, shock slowly being replaced with anger. Sure, Mysterion is the leader, but his word isn’t law! Tweek balls his fists and punches the wall, leaving a small dent. Mysterion has always underestimated him, always pushed him to the side while he fought the battles. Tweek isn’t a little kid anymore, he can fight his own battles, and he will. Pushing the door open, Tweek runs after Mysterion.

The room isn’t far off and Tweek quickly reaches the metal door. He swings it open and stomps to Mysterion’s side. On the opposite side of the room is Craig, in his villain getup. He sends Tweek a smirk and Tweek feels his cheeks heat up with a dopey smile.

Mysterion looks back at Tweek, worry slowly disappearing from his eyes. He puts a hand on Tweek’s shoulder and pushes him behind him.

“Give up, Feldspar.”

Craig focuses his attention on Mysterion, taking a sip from his glass. “I’d rather not.”

Mysterion guards his front as he examines Craig’s ever move. “It’s two against one, you don't stand a chance.”

Craig twirls the glass between his fingers and licks his lips. “You’re right about that.”

Frost tickles his fingers as the air goes cold. Heavy ice glues to his hand with a sharp edge. Before he can think, warmth trickles down his arm.

Mysterion turns his head around, blood dripping from the now gone smile. Tweek pierces him deeper with the ice, feeling the blood’s warmth envelop him. He coughs up a river of blood and falls to his knees. Tweek removes the spear of ice and Mysterion collapses onto the floor, surrounded by an ocean of blood. The warmth feels like a burn and Tweek is scared he’ll melt. Watching Mysterion’s lifeless body on the floor, Tweek falls to his knees. He tries to register what just happened. The gaping hole in Mysterion’s chest tells him more than enough. Watching the blood pumping out of his former ally, Tweek should feel sick. Hearing the crunching of bones as feet trample over the corpse, he should feel regret. The blood pooling at his feet shifts when a pair of legs appear in front of him. As he looks up, Tweek is met with the glimmer of pride in Craig’s eyes.

“Good job,” he says and pats Tweek lightly on the head.

Tweek feels a grin spreading on his face as his pulse quickens. Looking back at the body, he should feel sick. As is grin widens, he should feel regret. But as Craig calls for him by the door, the only thing he feels.

Is alive.


	11. Destabilization

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still a few chapters left, but the end is getting closer!  
> I wasn't quite sure how to write this chapter and had to change things around a few times, but it's finally done.  
> I appreciate those of you who have stuck around despite the long wait! ^^

Flames reaching the sky light up the dark night as a boy hurriedly runs towards the engulfed city. It would be wise to stay away, but the boy has never been known for being wise anyway. He kicks debris out of the way as he runs through the collapsing buildings. The crackling of flames and breaking of wood deafens all other sound. Corpses litter the streets and the boy find himself stumbling a few times, but not enough to fall. Maybe he was too late. The dead bodies speak for the suggestion and the boy balls his fists. He was too late again.

A raspy voice reaches the boy’s ears and he’s immediately back on his feet. He follows the barely audible voice, which gets quieter with each second. He’s stopped in his tracks once a burning building falls down, creating a blockage on his current path. Realizing he doesn’t have much time left, the boy increases his speed towards the voice, yelling in desperation, “hello? Anybody there?”

No answer.

He keeps moving forward, desperate to find the person calling out. The boy feels his feet stumble into something soft on the ground, almost causing him to trip, but he composes himself. The soft thing is a body, lying in the middle of the road. It hasn’t been scorched by the flames yet and he can identify the body as a little boy, probably around his age. Blonde hair glistens in the fire and a pained grunt follows the movement of a finger. He quickly kneels down and presses a finger against the boy’s neck. There’s a pulse.

Pulling the boy up, he slings an arm over his back and grabs the hand for leverage. The boy’s hand is soft, but touching the skin causes a slight tingle to course through his body. He tightens his grip on the hand and the tingle increases, going from barely noticeable to unpleasant.

The boy stirs in his grip and he quickens their pace, moving far away from the fire. It takes some time, but after stumbling through the collapsing buildings they’re back in safety. He lets the boy down by a tree, resting both their backs against the trunk as they sit down. It’s quiet, the only sound being their shared labored breath. Shared? He looks to the side and notices the boy’s open eyes. Blue.

“You alive?” Was the first thing to exit his mouth as he watches the boy with curiosity.

The boy takes a few deep breaths before answering, “y-yeah? I think so.”

“Good, would have felt disappointing if I saved a zombie.”

The boy laughs with a bright smile despite the condition he’s in. He has bleeding bruises on his knees and arms, probably in need of disinfection.

He reaches out his hand towards the boy, “I’m Kenny, what’s your name?”

The boy shakily accepts his hand, a familiar tingle coursing through Kenny’s body.

“Tweek.”

* * *

 

“Tweek.”

Looking up towards the door, Tweek sees Craig waving him over. He tries to stand up but slips on the blood flooding the floor, landing on his hands and knees. Opening his eyes, he’s met with the gaping hole in Mysterion’s chest. It stopped pulsating a while ago, but blood is still leaking out. There are pieces of his broken heart littered on the other side and Tweek glares at them with a scorn. He pushes his hand into the hole. It’s still warm and gooey. He grabs what’s left of the heart, and probably some of the other stuff that was in there. He pulls his hand out with a sound of splattering blood. Looking at the contents of his hand in disgust, he crushes it. The satisfying sound of crushed guts and liquid running out, covering his arms and legs, fill the room. Tweek forces his fist closed again.

And again.

And again.

Until he finally drops the red mush on the floor.

Freezing the blood beneath his feet, Tweek stands up with ease and walks towards the door. Craig holds it open for him, his face displaying an emotion Tweek doesn’t recognize. They leave the room together, Tweek never looking back into the darkness.

Craig is walking further away than usual. His steps are staggered and he almost trips over a carpet. Tweek gives him a questioning look and he clears his throat. “I-uh-you did great out there.”

Tweek nods and focuses his eyes forward again. He can feel Craig’s eyes boring into the back of his head and, quite frankly, finds it annoying.

“What?” He asks with glare.

Craig’s face flushes red and he quickly looks away. “Nothing! We’re almost there, the other heroes will be waiting.”

They are soon met with two large doors. Tweek can already feel what’s waiting on the other side. Surprisingly enough, he isn’t scared. He doesn’t feel dread or regret. Nor anxiety or sadness. He feels confident.

Before Craig can tell him the plan, Tweek slams open the doors and walks in. Inside the room he’s greeted by the sight of the other heroes. Kyle, Stan and Eric. A sigh of relief floods the room as Kyle runs up to him.

“Dude finally, we were so worried!”

Stan joins Kyle at his side, “yeah you two just disappeared, the fuck is up with that?”

Tweek scans all of them. Neither of them possess a single scratch.

“We tried calling Kenny like a million times but he didn’t-” Kyle’s eyes widens as he notices the splatters of blood across Tweek’s face, “oh my god are you alright!?”

Tweek raises his hand, still dripping with blood. “Yeah, I just took care of a pest.”

Kyle takes a step back, worry plastered on his face.

“Where the fuck is Kenny?” Eric asks with crossed arms.

Tweek feels a smile widen on his face at the memory. He brings his hands to his cheeks with a giggle, leaving a trail of blood behind. “He’s gone.”

The three heroes’ faces turn into horror as they back away. Clinking of shoes approaching from the door catches Tweek’s attention. Craig enters the room, looking as composed as ever. “You might as well give up, without your two biggest assets how will you win?”

“Two?” Stan asks in confusion as his eyes shift from Craig to Tweek. “Tweek, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Tweek gives the heroes a blank stare. “I betrayed you, dummy.”

Kyle balls his fists and Stan quickly grabs his arm to pull him back. “Why!?”

Putting a finger on his lips, Tweek tries to remember why. Out of all questions, he didn’t think this would be the one he’d struggle with. Why did he betray his former allies and family? Why did he switch sides? Why did he kill Mysterion?

He doesn’t know why.

“I don’t know,” he answers with a shrug.

“You just betray us, your _family_ , for no reason!?”

He’s been following the flow of his emotions, letting feelings guide the way. Even now, standing here, he doesn’t have a goal in mind. But does it matter? Standing on the tip of his toes, he grabs Craig’s cheeks and pull him into a deep kiss. He can feel the other’s cheeks heat up under his hands, and he lets go for a moment of breath. His hands stained Craig’s cheeks in blood and he reaches up to lick them both in delight.

Their moment of intimacy is abruptly interrupted by a screwdriver being thrown in their direction. Stan has his hands in the air as Kyle mercilessly grabs things from his tool belt to throw. “Dude I kinda need those?”

“Shut up Stan!”

Once out of things to throw, Kyle marches up to Tweek and punches him in the face. “Fuck you!”

Tweek falls to the ground and Kyle quickly climbs on top of him, grabbing his collar. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done!?”

Still in shock, Tweek finds it hard to answer, “I-I-”

Kyle slaps him this time. “You betrayed everyone that’s ever cared for you,” another slap, “ _killed_ your best friend,” another slap, “and for what, a lay!?”

Tweek’s head thuds to the ground as Kyle lets him go, gesturing for the others to follow him to the door. Tweek props himself up on his arms, wincing in pain as his face aches. He watches the heroes walk out the door, Kyle ushering them out. Before following the others, Kyle looks back at Tweek.

“He doesn’t actually care about you, if that’s what you think,” he says before closing the door.

Tweek shifts his eyes from the door to Craig, who’s staring at him intently. He helps Tweek stand up and grabs his hand, bringing it to his face. A chaste kiss is placed on the top of the bloody hand, coloring Craig's lips a luscious red. Tweek’s face heats up as he locks eyes with Craig, his face once again displaying an emotion Tweek doesn’t recognize. It feels warm and Tweek’s stomach bubbles with fluttering butterflies. Craig smiles at him before dragging them both out of the building, hand in hand.

Tweek loves Craig, right? But why does he love Craig? The question boggles his mind and his smile shifts into a frown.

He doesn’t know why.


	12. Hallucination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another month, another chapter!  
> Is Tweek finally starting to question his actions?  
> Writing this chapter along with school work has been quite the feat.  
> Mistaking the due date for an assignment and then finishing it in 1 day is an achievement I can write on my resume, that's for sure!

Light seeps through the curtain and brings in a breeze of cold morning air. Tweek reaches to his left, seeking the warmth of Craig’s body. But said warmth is nowhere to be found. Tweek sits up and rubs his eyes with a yawn, still groggy from his slumber. The room feels colder than he remembered and he pulls the blanket over his head. He looks at the time. Usually Craig would either still be in bed at this time, or get up early and make breakfast for Tweek. He can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance when Craig doesn't show up in five minutes. Or ten. Or twenty.

Throwing the blanket off the bed, Tweek stomps towards the door. The kitchen is empty when he arrives, save for an open package of apple juice on the counter. Tweek grabs a glass and pours himself a drink. Luke warm. He grabs the package and puts it back in the fridge before leaving.

Wandering aimlessly through the massive halls, Tweek finds himself lost in the maze. He still hasn’t gotten used to living in the large mansion and probably needs a map. With the announcement of Mysterion’s death and the heroes’ retreat from Feldspar, the villains were officially crowned victors of the fight. With everyone fearing them, they are free to do what they want. Craig found a huge mansion a bit out of town and suggested they move there. All of his underlings, alongside Tweek and himself, have lived in the mansion ever since.

Tweek opens another creaky door with a frown. Craig is nowhere to be found. Crossing his arms in annoyance, Tweek walks back to the kitchen. He finishes the last of his drink before opening the door.

Eyes going wide before turning into a scowl, Tweek watches Craig pour apple juice into his wine glass. Swift hands carefully hold the package as juice falls into the glass. He sways his hips lightly as he shakes his head to the rhythm of his whistling. Do normal people look so graceful when pouring liquid in a glass? Tweek watches as Craig twirls the glass between his fingers. Probably not.

After putting the package down, Craig spins around but stops dead in his tracks once he notices Tweek’s stare. “Hey, Tweek.”

“You’re up early.” Tweek says with a blank stare.

Craig and him lock eyes before Craig quickly looks away, biting his lips. “I had some business to attend to.”

Taking a few steps forward, Tweek gently taps his fingers against Craig’s chest. “What kind of business?”

Craig shivers at the touch and feels heat rise to his cheeks. “Just, y’know, normal villain stuff. Killing the authorities and stuff.”

Tweek’s hands reach for Craig’s shoulder and he pulls him into a deep kiss. Craig’s eyes blow open and his hands move to Tweek’s chest to push him away. Tweek stumbles back, wiping his lips with his sleeve. Catching his breath, Craig drags a hand through his hair as he avoids Tweek’s glare.

Tweek squints at the gesture, putting his hands in his pockets. “Remember that I’m here if you need me.”

Before Craig can answer Tweek has already left the room.

Closing the door behind him, Tweek walks towards the building’s exit. He hasn’t left the mansion ever since they arrived. He hasn’t been sent on any missions and Craig barely pays him any attention. If he was honest, he’d think Craig is avoiding him. But that can’t be true, right?

Bringing a finger to his lips, Tweek sighs in disappointment. Tweek usually is not the one to instigate kisses, but when he does Craig goes stiff and doesn’t kiss back.

This is the first time he has been pushed away.

Opening the large wooden doors, Tweek takes his first deep breath of fresh air in days. The mansion is located in the woods, which is also all Tweek can see. He walks up to a tree and kicks the trunk out of frustration, quickly regretting his action as his foot starts to ache. Grabbing his foot in pain, he loses his balance and can feel the ground coming closer. He closes his eyes, waiting for the impact. His fall stops as his back is touched by two warm hands, pushing him back up. Quickly whipping his head around, Tweek is met with nothing but the woods. Maybe be imagined it?

From the corner of his eyes he spots a purple cloth. Legs moving on their own, Tweek walks towards it, but as he arrives it’s gone. Looking around again, he spots it further away, this time accompanied by a large question mark bouncing on top. He feels a chill course through his body and a sharp sting in his heart. Grasping the shirt around his chest, Tweek falls to the ground in pain. He catches a glimpse of brown boots before curling into a ball. No sound escapes his mouth as he breathes heavily, ears rushing with adrenaline. A wet feeling envelops his hands and he opens his eyes. Blood. There’s blood everywhere. Raising his head, Tweek jolts back in fear. In front of him is a body, enveloped by a purple cape. The body’s eyes shoot open, causing Tweek to yelp. The body drips of blood as it starts crawling towards Tweek, the hole in its chest gushing out more blood as it moves.

Backing into a tree, Tweek hisses in pain as his head hits the trunk. The body approaches him slowly and Tweek shuts his eyes, waiting for the worst. The slithering sound of a body dragging against the ground comes to a stop and he feels something warm lightly pat his head. As he opens his eyes, the body is gone.

* * *

 

“What were you doing outside earlier?” Craig asks as he shovels pasta into his mouth. Tweek drops his fork and looks at Craig. “I wanted some fresh air.”

Craig puts his fork down and leans his face onto his hands. He stares intently at Tweek without saying a word. Is he testing him? Does he not believe him? Thoughts rush through Tweek’s head in a jumbled mess as he feels Craig’s stare. It feels like he’s dissecting him with his eyes, cutting him open to put everything on display. He feels exposed.

Abruptly slamming his hands onto the table, Tweek’s chair falls to the ground has he shoots up. “I’m full,” he says before quickly leaving the room. As he closes the door, he doesn’t notice the look of worry on Craig’s face.

Stomping to his room, Tweek covers his ears in an attempt to silence the thoughts. He knows Craig wouldn’t do that, right? He trusts him, right? He said so himself. Moments of affection and kindness course through his head and he calms down. All of it was real, right? He keeps going over the memories with a smile, until it quickly turns into a frown. He remembers the underling he fought. _He’s just using you,_ _he doesn’t care about you_.

Stopping in front of a mirror, Tweek looks at his reflection. His appearance hasn’t changed, but he isn’t the same anymore. The bags under his eyes and frown on his face, he wasn’t always like this. The feelings of excitement for his first big mission with Mysterion, where did they go?

He feels tears fall down his cheeks as he sits down, watching his weak body curl up. He’s pathetic, isn’t he?

In the mirror he spots a pair of brown boots and closes his eyes. The touch of a warm hand on his head lulls him into a comfortable sleep before disappearing with a chaste kiss on his head.


End file.
